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CHAPTER 1 THE SON OF GILBERT It was a winter night and the ground around Paris was covered with snow, although the flakes had ceased to fall since some hours. Spite of the cold and the darkness, a young man, wrapped in a mantle so voluminous as to hide a babe in his arms, strode over the white fields out of the town of Vilaire Côte d'Orets and the woods, eighteen leagues from the capital, which he had reached by the stagecoach towards a hamlet called Hermont. His assured step seemed to indicate that he had previously gone this road. Soon, above him, streaked the leafless boughs upon the grey sky. The sharp air, the odor of the oaks, the icicles and beads on the tips of branches, all appealed to the poetry and the wanderer. Through the clumps he looked for the village spire and the blue smoke of the chimneys, filtering from the cottages through the natural trellis of the limbs. It was dawn when he crossed a brook bordered with yellow crests and frozen vines, and at the first hovel asked for the laborer's boy to take him to Madeleine P'thous's home. Mute and attentive, not so dull as most of their kind, the children sprang up in the staring at the stranger, led him by the hand to a rather large and good-looking cottage on the bank of the rivulet running by most of the dwellings. A plank served as a bridge. There, said one of the guides, nodding his head toward it, Gobert gave them a coin which made their eyes open, still more widely, and crossed the board to the door, which he pushed open, while the children, taking one another's hand, stared with all their might at the handsome gentleman in a brown-clothed coat, buckled shoes and large cloak, who wanted to find Madeleine P'thous. Apart from them, Gobert, for such was the young man's name, simply so, for he had no other, saw no living things. The room was the deserted village he was seeking.    Catching sight of the visitor, the dog barked in a civil unhospitable manner, just to show that he had not been caught napping. The praying boy turned, cutting the devotional phrase in two, and both females uttered an exclamation between joy and surprise.  The gentleman has my name! she cried out with a start. As you notice, but please do not interrupt me. Instead of one babe at the breast, you are to have the pair.  What a pretty darling, ejaculated the spinner. Quite a dear, yes, Aunt Angelique, said Madeleine. Your sister, inquired the visitor pointing to the spinner, who was also a spinster. Now my man's sister. Yes, my auntie, my Aunt Angelique, mumbled the boy, striking into the talk without being asked. Be quiet, Ange, rebuked his mother. You are interrupting the gentleman. My business is very plain, good woman. The child you see is the son of one of my master's farmers, the farmer being ruined. My master, his godfather, wants him brought up in the country to become a good workman, hail, and with good manners. Will you undertake this rearing? But master? Born yesterday, and never nursed, went on Gilbert. Besides, this is the nursing which Major Niquette, the lawyer at Villiers-Coutierettes, spoke to you about. Madeleine instantly seized the babe and supplied it with the nourishment it craved, with a generous impetuosity deeply affecting the young man. I have not been misled, said he.  In my master's name, I confide the child to you. I see that he will fare well here, and I trust he will bring into this cabin a dream of happiness, together with his own. How much does master Niquette pay you for his children? Twelve levers a month, sir, but he is rich, and he adds a few pieces for sugars and toys.  Lord, bless us. I thank you kindly, master. Said the peasant, and here is the first year's money down on the nail, when on Gilbert placing ten fine gold coins on the table, which made the two women open their eyes, and little Angie Petu stretch out his devastating hand. But if the little thing should not live, queried the nurse timidly, it would be a great blow, such a misfortune as seldom happens. Responded the gentleman, here is the hire settled. Are you satisfied? Oh, yes, sir. Let us now pass to the future payments. Then we are to keep the child? Probably, and be parents to it, said Gilbert in a stifled voice in losing color. Dear, dear, is he an outcast? Gilbert had not expected such feelings and questions, but he recovered from the emotion. I did not tell you the whole truth, he said. The poor father died on the shock of hearing that his wife gave up her life in burying him the child. The women rung their hands with sympathy. So that child can reckon on no love from his parents, continued Gilbert breathing painfully. At this point, in tramped Daddy Petu with a calm and jolly manner, he was one of those round and honest characters overflowing with health and goodwill, such as grazu, paints, and his natural domestic pictures. A few words showed him how matter stood. Out of good nature he understood things, even those beyond his comprehension. Gilbert made it clear that the keep money would be paid until the boy was a man and able to live alone with his mind in arm. All right, said Petu, I rather think we shall take to the kid, though he is a tiny creature. Look at that, said the women together. He thinks it a little dear, just like us. I should like you to come over to Master Nikhet's, where I will leave the money required so that you may be content in that child happy. Gilbert took leave of the women and bent over the cradle in which the newcomer had ousted the rightful heir. He wore a somber heir.  The trait broke his heart. He pressed his nails into his flesh to keep the tears flowing from his aching breast. He left a kiss timid and tremulous on the babe's fresh cheek and tottered out. He gave half a Louis to little Angie, who was stumbling between his legs, and shook hands with the women who thought it an honor. So many emotions oppressed the father of eighteen years, that little more would have prostrated him. Pale and nervous, his brain was spinning. Let us be off, he said to Petu, waiting on the sill. Master, called out Madeleine, found the threshold. His name? What did you say his name is? Call him Gilbert, replied the young man with manly pride. The business at the notaries was quickly done. Money was banked for the child's keep and bringing up, as became a farm hands offspring. For fifteen years education and training was to be given him, and the balance was to be devoted to fitting him in a trade or buying a plot of land. At his eighteenth year, some two thousand leavers were to be paid the nurse and her husband, who would have the other some year leave from the intermediary. His reward, Nikhet, was to have the interest of the funds. Ten years passed, and the Petu woman, who had lost her husband while Ange was hardly able to remember her, felt herself dying. Three years before she had seen Gilbert, returned a man of twenty-seven. Stiff, dogmatic of speech, cold at the outset, but his mask of ice, thawed when he saw his son again, hardy, smiling and strong, brought up as he had planned. He shook the good widow's hand and said, Rely on me if ever in need. He took the child away, went to see the tomb of Rousseau, the philosopher, musician and poet, and returned to Villiers-Couture, seduced by the good air and the praise of the Abbe Fortier School for Youth. He left Gilbert at that institution. He had thought highly of the tutor's philosophical mean. For philosophy was a great power at this revolutionary period, and had glided into the bosom of the church. He left his address and departed for Paris. Ange Petoux's mother knew these particulars. At her dying hour she remembered the pledge of Gilbert to be the friend at need. It was a bright light. No doubt Providence had brought him to Hermont to provide poor Petoux with more than he lost in losing life and family. Not able to write, she sent for the parish priest who wrote a letter for her, and this was given to Abbe Fortier to be sent off by the post. It was time, for she died next day. End of Chapter 1. Chapter 2 of Taking the Best Deal. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Elsie Selwyn. Taking the Best Deal by Alexander Dumas. Chapter 2. Ange Petoux. Ange was too young to feel the whole extent of his loss, but he divined that the angel of the hearth had vanished, and when the body was taken to the churchyard and interred, he sat down by the grave and replied to all pleadings for him to come away by saying that Mama Madeleine was there, that he had never left her, and he would stay beside her now. It was there that Dr. Gilbert, for Ange Petoux's future guardian was a physician, found him when he hastened to Hermont on receiving the dying mother's appeal. Ange was very young, when thus he saw the doctor for the first time, but we know youth can feel deep impressions, leaving everlasting memories. The previous passing of the young man of mystery through the cottage had impressed its trace. He had left welfare with the boy. Every time Ange heard his mother pronounce the benefactor's name, it had been almost with worship. Finally, when he appeared grown up, adorned with the title of physician, joining to the past boons the future promises, Petoux had judged by his mother's gratitude that he ought himself to be grateful. The poor lad, without clearly knowing what he was saying, faltered words of eternal remembrance and profound thanks, such as he had heard his mother use. Therefore, as soon as he perceived the doctor coming among the grassy graves and broken crosses, he understood that he came at his mother's appeal, and he could not say no to him as to the others. He made no resistance except to turn his head to look backwards as Dr. Gilbert grasped his hand and led him from the cemetery. A stylish cab was at the gates into which the doctor made the poor boy step, and he was taken to the town talers, where he was fitted with clothes. They were made too large so that he would grow up to them. At the rate our hero grew, this would not take long. Thus equipped, Ange was walked in a quarter of the town called Pellue, where Petoux pays slack. He recalled this as being the abode of his aunt, Angelique, of whom he had preserved an appalling memory. Indeed the old maid had no attractions for a boy who cherished true motherly affections. She was nearly sixty by this period. The minute practice of religion had brutalized her, and mistaken piety had twisted all sweet, merciful, and humane feelings, so that she cultivated in their stead a natural dose of greedy intelligence augmented daily by her association with all the prudes. She did not precisely live on public charity, but besides the sale of linen-thread hand-spun and letting out chairs in the church, she received from kindly souls and sneered by her devout posturations petty coin which she converted into silver and that into gold. Nobody suspected she accumulated them, and she stuffed the gold in the cushion and frame of an old armchair in which she sat at work. It was to this venerable relative's dwelling that Gilbert led little Petoux. We might say big Petoux, for he was too large for his age. Miss Rose Angelique Petoux, as they came up, was in a merry humor, as she had just sent another gold piece to go and keep company with the rest of her hoard. She was going around her seat of revenue, when the doctor in his ward appeared at the door, and she had to welcome the relic of her family. The interview would have been affecting if it had not been so grotesque. The doctor, a man of keen observation, and physiognomist, read the character of the hypocritical old maid at a glance. With her long nose, thin lips, and small right eyes, she collected in one person cupidity, selfishness, and hypocrisy. As soon as the stranger stated his little text on the duty of aunts to take care of their nieces and nephews, she turned sour and replied that, whatever her love for her poor sister and her interest in her dear little nephew, the slenderness of her means did not permit her, though she was godmother as well as aunt, to add to her expenses. It is in this way, Master Gilbert. This would run me into six cents a day extra for that loverly boy would eat a pound of bread. Angie screwed up his face, for he could talk away a pound and a half at breakfast alone. This is saying nothing for his washing, for he is a dirty little chap. Considering that Angie was a regular gypsy for burying about moles and climbing trees, this was true enough, but it is fair to say that he tore his clothes worse than he soiled them. Thie, said Dr. Gilbert, do you who understand the Christian virtue so well make such close calculations about a nephew and an orphan? Then the keeping of his clothes and repair, went on the miser, recalling the quantity of patches she had seen sewn by her sister on the knees and seat of Master Angie's pants. In short, said the doctor, you refuse to shelter your nephew in your house, the orphan boy who will have to beg for alms at the doors of others. Meena she was, she felt the disgrace befalling her as if she drove her next of kin to this step. No, I will take charge of him, she said. Good, said the doctor, delighted to find a moist spot in this desert. I will recommend him to the Augustan monastery and have them take him as a boy of work. The doctor was a philosopher, we have mentioned, which means that he was an opponent of all the churchmen. He resolved to tear this little recruit from the enemy with all the warmth that the Augustans would have shown to deprive him of a disciple.  I will find somebody else to take him in the summer I'm going to set aside for his maintenance. I am obliged to return to America. Meanwhile I must apprentice the boy to some craft, which he can choose for himself. In my absence he will grow up and then we will see what to make of him. Kiss your good aunt, goodbye, and let us try our luck elsewhere, concluded the doctor. He had barely finished before Patu rushed into his aunt's long bony arms to exchange the hug which he wanted to be and token of eternal separation. But the mention of a sum of money in Gilbert's movements of putting his hand in his pocket for cash, with the chink of silver set the warmth of greed up from her old heart. Lord doctor, do not you know that nobody in all the wild world can love this poor lone-lorn thing like his dear fond auntie? Entwining him with her long arm she imprinted on his cheeks a couple of kisses so sour that they made his hair stand on end and then curl with a shriveling up. Just what I thought, but still you are too poor to do the proper thing. Nay, good master Gilbert, said the pious dame, forget not that we have the father of the fatherless above and that he has promised that a swallow shall not be sold for a penny without it being spent for the orphan's share. The text may be so, but it nowhere says that the orphan is bound out as a servant. I'm afraid to do with Angie as I suggested. It would be too dear for your slight resources. But with the sum you spoke of in your pocket, said the old devotee with her eyes riveted on the place whence the chink had sounded, I would give it assuredly, but only on condition, that the boy should be brought up to some livelihood. I promised that, cried Aunt Angelique. I vow it, as true as the sheep or temper for the storm wind, and she raised her skeleton hand to heaven. Well, replied Gilbert, drawing out a bag rounded with coin, I am ready to deposit the funds, but you must sign a contract at Lawyer Nikhet's. Nikhet was her own businessman and she raised no objections. A bargain was made for five years and she, too, was to be brought up to some trade and board it, et cetera, for 200 levers to his auntie year. The doctor paid down the money. Next day he quitted Villiers. After arranging, matters with a farmer on some property of his named Billette, whose acquaintance wish I'll make in good time. Miss Patu, pouncing on the first payment in advance of the Maintenance Fund, buried eight bright gold pieces in her armchair bottom. With eight levers over, she put the small change waiting to make up the amount of a gold piece to be placed when converted in the Peculiar Savings Bank. We notice the scant sympathy Angie felt for his aunt. He had foreseen the sorrow disappointment and tribulations awaiting him under her roof. In the first place, as soon as the doctor had turned his back, there was no longer a question about his learning any trade. When the good notary made a remark on this agreement, the tender aunt rejoined that her nephew was too delicate to be put to work. The lawyer had admired his client's sensitive heart and deferred the apprenticeship question for another year. He was only twelve, so it would not waste much valuable time. While his aunt was ruminating how to evade the contract, Angie resumed his truant life in the woods, as led at Haramont. It was the same woods and hence the same life. As soon as he had the best spots located for bird catching, he made some bird lime and having a four-pound loaf under his arm, he went off into the forest for the whole day. He had foreseen a storm when he came back at nightfall, but he expected to parry it with the proceeds of his skill. He had not presaged how the tempest would fall. In fact, Aunt Angelique had ambushed herself behind a door to deal him a cuff, as he crept in, which he recognized as inflicted by her hard hand. Happily, he had a hard head too, and though the blow staggered him, he had the sense left to hold out as a peace offering in Buckler the talisman he had prepared.  What's this? Challenged his aunt continuing to grumble for a foreign stake but opening her eyes more widely than her mouth. Birds, you can see good Aunt Angelique, replied Petu as she grabbed the lot. Good to eat? questioned the old maid who was greedy in all her senses of the word. Red-based and large, I should bet they're good to eat, but they are better to sell. They command a good price in the market.  Stale, I ain't stolen. I took them out the pool in the woods. A fellow has only set up long twigs anywhere near the water and the silly birds get tangled, then you run up, ring their necks and there you have them. Lime, do you catch birds with lime? queried Angelique. Not more to lime. Bless your innocence, but bird lime, it's made by boiling down holly sap. I understand, but where did you get the money to buy holly sap? I should be a sap head to buy that, one makes it. Ah, then these birds are to be had for the picking up. Yes, any day, but not every day for, of course, you cannot catch on Tuesday, those you caught on Monday. Very true, returned the ant, amazed at the brightness of her nephew, was for one's display. You are right. This unheard of approval delighted the boy. But on the days when you ought not to go to the pool, she'd go elsewhere. When you're not catching birds, you snare hairs. You can eat them too and sell the skins for two cents. Angelique stared at her nephew, who was coming out as a financier. Oh, I can do the selling. Of course, just as Mother Madeleine did, for Petu had never supposed he was to enjoy the fruit of his hunting. When will you go snareing hairs? She asked eagerly. I will go snareing hairs and rabbits when I have why for snares. All right, make it. Oh, I cannot do that. Petu said, scratching his head, I must buy that at the store, but I can weave the springs. What does it cost? I can make a couple dozen with four cents worth and not to catch half a dozen bunnies and the snares I used over and over again unless the gamekeeper sees them. Here are four cents, said Aunt Angelique. Go and buy wire and get the rabbits tomorrow. Wire was cheaper in the town than at the village, so that Angie got material for 24 snares for three cents. He brought the odd copper to his aunt, who was touched by dishonesty. For an instant, she felt like giving him the scent, but unfortunately for Angie, it had been flattened by a hammer and might be passed in the dusk for a two-sues piece. She thought it wicked to squander a piece that might bring a hundred percent, and she popped it into her pouch. Petu made the snares and in the morning asked mysteriously for a bag. In it, she put the bread and cheese for his meals in a way he went to his hunting ground. Meanwhile, she plucked the robins intended for their dinner. She took a brace of larks to Abbe Fortier and two braised to the golden ball and keeper, who paid her three cents for them and ordered as many as she could supply at that rate. She went home beaming. The blessing of heaven had entered the house with Angie Petu. They are quite right to say a good action is never thrown away. She observed as she munched the robins as fatties, ortolans, and delicates, becquioes. At dark, and walked Angie with the rounded-out bag on his shoulders, and Angelique received him on the threshold, but not with a slap. Here I am with my bag, said he with the calmness of having well-spent his day. And what have you in the bag? cried the ant, stretching out her hand in sharp curiosity. Beach-massed, replied Petu. It is in this way. If Daddy Lejeunasse, the gamekeeper, saw me rambling without the bag, he would want to know what I was lurking for, and he would feel suspicion. But when he challenged me with the bag, I just answered him, I'm gathering Beach-massed father. Is it not forbidden to gather mast, is it? And not being forbidden, he could not do anything. So he said nothing except, you have a good ant, Petu, give her my compliments. So you have been collecting mast, instead of catching rabbits, cried Aunt Angelique angrily. No, no, I laid my snares under a cover of mast-gathering. The old donkey saw me doing that, and thought it right. But the game, said the woman bent on the first principle. The moon will be up at twelve, and I will go and see how many I have snared. You will go out into the woods at midnight. Why not? What is there to be afraid of? The woman was as amazed at Angie's courage as at the breadth of his speculations. But brought up in the woods, Angie was not to be scared of what terrifies the town boy. So at midnight he set out, skirting the cemetery wall, for the innocent lad, never in his ideas offending anybody, had no more fear of the dead than of the living. The only person he dreaded was Lajinous. So he made a turn round his house, and stopped to imitate the barking of a dog, so naturally, that the game-keeper's basset Snorer, deceived by the provocation, replied with a full throat, and came to the door to sniff the air. Patu ran on, chuckling, for if Snorer were home, his master would surely sleep there, as the man and dog were inseparable. In the snares, two rabbits had been strangled. Patu stuffed them into the pockets of coat made too long for him, and now too small. The greed kept the ant awake, that she had leaned down. She had reckoned on too brace of game. Only a pair, said Patu, it is not my fault that I've not done better, but these are the conny-nest rabbits for miles around. Next day, Patu renewed his enterprises, and had the luck to catch three rabbits. Two went to the tavern, and one to Abbey Fortier, who recommended Ann Angelique to the benevolent of the town. Thus things went on for three or four months, the woman enchanted, and Ann Angelique thinking life-endurable. Except for his mother's loss, matters were such as at Hermont, he passed his time in rural pleasures. But an unexpected circumstance broke the jaw-evolution of the prude and stopped the nefuse trapping. A letter from Dr. Gilbert to ride from New York, he had not forgotten his little ward on landing, but asked Master Nikhet if his instructions had been followed, and if young Patu were learning the means to make his own living. It was a pinch, for there was no denying that he was tall and length, but so are hickory saplings, and nobody doubts their strength and elasticity. The aunt asked a week to put in her reply. It was miserable for both, but Patu asked no better career than he was leading, but it was quiet at the time. Not only did the cold weather drive the birds away, but the snow fell, as it would retain footprints, he dared not go into the woods to lay traps and snares. During the week the old maid's claws grew, she made the stripling so wretched that he was ready to take her mother than be her but any longer. Suddenly, a sublime idea sprouted into her cruelly tormented brain where peace reigned again. Father Fortier had two purses for poor students attached to his school out of the bounty of the Duke of Orleans. Angelique resolved to beg him to enter Angie for one of them. This would cost the teacher nothing, and to say nothing of the game on which the woman had been nourishing the doctor for half a year, he owed something to the church and he paid. Angie was received without fee by the school master. The old girl was delighted for it was the school of the district where Dr. Gilbert's son was educated. He paid fifty leavers and Angie got in for nothing but nobody was to let Sebastian Gilbert or any others know that. Whether they guessed this or not, Angie was received by his school fellows with that sweet spirit of brotherhood and theР He would have had a life a shade less worried than under Angelique's wing but father Fortier and soliciting little children to come on to him forgot to warn them that the hands he held out were armed with the Latin rudiments and and the golden ray from dreamland that in three years Angie would pass the examination and be sent to college with the Orlean's purse. Then he would become a priest, when he would of course make his aunt his housekeeper. One day a rough awakening came to this delusion and Angie crawled into the house as if shot and led. "'What? It's the matter!' cried Aunt Jaleek, who had never seen a more piteous mean. "'Are you hungry?' "'No,' replied Patu doftly. The hero was uneasy for illness as a cause of alarm to good mothers and bad godmothers, as it forces expenses. "'It is a great misfortune,' Patu blubbered. "'Father Fortier sends me home from school. No more studies, no examination, no purse, no college.' His sobs chained into house while the woman stared at him, trying to read in his soul the reason for this expulsion. "'I suppose you have been playing truant again?' She said, "'I hear you are always Roman round, Father Billet's place, to catch a sight of his daughter Catherine. Fee-fee, very pretty conduct and a future priest.' Angie shook his head. "'You lie!' shrieked the old maid, with her anger rising, with the growing certainty that it was a serious scrape. "'Last Sunday you were again seen rambling in Lover's Walk with Kate Billet.' It was she who fiddled, but she was one who believed the end justified the means, and a whale-truth might be caught by throwing out a tub-line. "'Oh, no, they could not have seen me there,' cried Angie, for we were out by the Orange Gardens. "'There, you wretch, you see you were with her!' "'But this is not a matter that Miss Billet is concerned in,' ventured Angie, blushing like the overgrown boy of sixteen that he was. "'Yes, call her Miss to pretend you have any respect for her, the flirt, the jilt, the minty minx. I will tell her, Father Confessor, how she is carrying on. "'But I'll take my Bible oath that she is not a flirt.' "'You defend her when you need all the excuses you can rake up for yourself. "'This is going on fine. What is the world coming to, when children of sixteen are walking arm in arm under the shade trees?' "'But hey, you are a way out. Catherine will not let me arm her.  You are calling her Catherine plain now.  She drives you away to have you come near it, they all do.' "'Do they?' "'They are never thought of that,' exclaimed the Swain, suddenly enlightened. "'Ah, you will have something else to think of, and she,' said the old prude, "'I will manage all this. I will ask Father Fortier to lock you up on bread and water for a fortnight, and have her put in a nunnery if she cannot moderate her fancy for you.' She spoke so emphatically that Petue was frightened. "'You are altogether wrong, my good aunt,' pleaded he, clasping his hands. "'Miss Catherine has nothing to do with my misfortune.' "'Empurity is the mother of all the vices,' returned Angelique sententiously. "'But impurity has nothing to do with my being turned out of school,' objected the youth. "'The teacher put me out because I made too many barbarisms and celesticisms, which prevent me of having any chance to win that purse.' "'What will become of you then?' "'Well, I guess I know,' wheeled Petue, who had never looked upon priesthood with Aunt Angelique as housekeeper, as paradise on earth. "'Let come what Providence pleases,' he sighed lamentably, raising his eyes. "'Providence, do you call it? I see you have got hold of those new fangled ideas about philosophy. "'That cannot be, for I cannot go into philosophy till I've passed rhetoric, and I'm only in the third course.' "'Joke away,' sneered the old maid, to whom the school jargon was Greek. "'I speak of the philosophy of these philosophers, not what a pious man like the priest would allow in his holy house.  He is lost.' When Aunt Angelique said her ward was lost, she meant that she was ruined, the danger was imminent. She took the sublime resolution to run to father forty years for explanation and above all to try to patch up the breach. End of Chapter 2. Chapter 3 of Taking the Bastille This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Elsie Selwyn. Taking the Bastille by Alexander Dumas. Chapter 3 A Revolutionary Farmer The departure of his aunt gave Petit a quarter of an hour in tranquility. He wanted to utilize it. He gathered the crumbs of his aunt's meal to feed his lizards. He was a naturalist who was never without pets, caught some flies for his aunts and frogs, and opened the cupboard and bread-box to get a supply of food for himself. Appetite had come to him with a lonesomeness. His preparations made for a feast. He went back to the door so as not to be surprised by the woman's return. While he was watching a pretty maid pass the end of the street, riding on the creper of a horse laden with two pin ears, one was filled with pigeons, the other with pullets. This was Catherine Billet, who smiled on Petit and stopped on seeing him. According to his habit he turned red as a beat. With gaping mouth he glared, we mean admired, Kate Billet, the last expression of feminine beauty to him. She looked up and down the street, nodded to her worshipper, and kept on in her way, Petit trembling with delight as he nodded back. Absorbed in his contemplation, he did not perceive his relative on the return from Forteers. Suddenly she grabbed his hand, while turning pale with anger. Abruptly roused from his bright dream by the electric shock always caused by Aunt Angelique's grasp. The youth wheeled and saw with horror that she was holding up his hand, which was, in turn, holding half a loaf with two most liberal smears of butter and another of white cheese applied to it. The woman yelled with fury and Petit groaned with fright. She raised her other claw-like hand and he lowered his head. She darted for the broom and the other dropped the food and took to his heels without any farewell speech. Those two hearts knew one another and understood that they could not get on together any more. Angelique bounced indoors and locked, with a double turn at the key. The grating sound seemed a renewal of the tempest to the fugitive who put on the pace. The result was an event the aunt was as far from expecting as the young man himself. Running as though all the fiends from below were at his heels, Petit was soon beyond the town bounds. On turning the burial-ground wall he bonked up against a horse. Could gracious, cried a sweet voice well known to the flyer, wherever are you racing so, Master Angelique, you nearly made Yunker take the bit in his teeth with the scare you gave us. Oh, Miss Catherine, what a misfortune is on me? replied Petit wide of the question. You alarm me, said the girl pulling up in the midway. What is wrong? I cannot be a priest, returned the young fellow as if revealing a world of iniquities. You won't, said the maid roaring with laughter instead of throwing up her hands as Petit expected. Become a soldier then. You must not make a fuss over such a trifle. Really, I thought your aunt had kicked the bucket. It is much the same thing for she has kicked me out. Lord, no, for you have not the pleasure of mourning for her, observed Catherine Billet to laughing more heartily than before which scandalized the nephew.   Real, when I have not a feather to fly with. Oh, for the best, returned the peasant girl. But how about eating? retorted Petit, a fellow must eat and I am always sharp set. Don't you like to work? What am I to work at? Wine tea. My aunts and father Fortier have repeated a hundred times that I am good for nothing. Ah, if I had been bound apprentice to a wheelwright or a carpenter instead of their trying to make a priest of me, upon my faithness Catherine accurses on me, said he with a wave of the hand in desperation. Elac! sighed the girl who knew like everybody the orphans melancholy tale. There is truth in what you say, my poor Petit. But there is one thing you might do. Do tell me what that is? cried the youth jumping towards the coming suggestion as a drowning man leaps for a twig of willow. You have a guardian in Dr. Gilbert whose son is your school fellow. I should rather think he was and by the same token I have taken many floggings for him. Why not apply to his father who certainly will not shake you off? That would be all right if I knew where to address him. But your father may know as he farmed some of his land. I know that he sends some of the rent to America and banks the other part here at a notary's. America is a far cry, moaned Petit. What, would you start for America? exclaimed the maid almost frightened at his courage. Me, thanks, no never. France is good enough for me if I could get enough to eat and drink. Very well, said she, falling into silence, which lasted some time. The lad was plunged into a thoughtful moan which would have puzzled Teacher Fortier, the logical man. Starting from obscurity the reverie brightened and then grew confused again, like lightning. Yunker had started in again for the walk home in Petu with a hand on one basket, trudged on beside it. As dreamy as her neighbor Catherine let the bridle drop, with no fear about being run away with, there were no monsters on the highway and Yunker bore no resemblance to the fabulous hippogriffs. The walkers stopped mechanically when the animal did, which was at the farm. Hello, is that you, Petu? challenged a strong, shouldered man, proudly stationed before a drinking-pool where his horse was swilling. It is me, Master Billet. He's had another mishap, said the maid jumping off the horse without any heed as to showing her ankles. His aunt has sent him packing. What has he done to worry the old bigot this time, queried the farmer? It appears that I am not good enough in Greek, said the scholar who was lying, for it was Latin he was a bungler at. What do you want to be good at Greek for? asked the broad-shouldered man. To explain theocrities and read the Iliad, these are useful when you want to be a priest. Trash, said Billet. Do you need Greek and Latin? Do I know my own language? Can I read or write? But this does not prevent me plowing, sewing, and reaping.  Agricole, says Virgil. Do you not think a farmer is on level with a larned clerk, you cussed choir-boy? Particularly when the agrocholar has a hundred acres of tilled land in the sun and a thousand lewis in the shade. I have always been told that a priest leads the happiest life. Though I grant, added Patu, smiling most ammubly, I do not believe all I hear. You are right, my boy, by a blamed sight. You see, I can make rhymes if I like to try. It strikes me that you have the makings and you have something better than a scholar, and that is a deuced lucky thing that you try something else, mainly at the present time. As a farmer I know which way the wind blows and it is rough for priests. So then, as you are an honest lad and larned, here Patu bowed at being so styled for the first time, you can get along without the black gown. Pathern, who was setting the chickens and pigeons on the ground, was listening with interest to the dialogue. It looks hard to win a livelihood, said the lad. What do you know how to do? I can make bird-lime and snare-game, I can mock the bird's songs, eh, Miss Kate? He can whistle like a blackbird. But whistling is not a trade, commented Billet. Just what I say to myself by Jingo? Oh, you can swear that is a manly accomplishment, anyhow. Oh, did I beg your pardon, farmer? Don't mention it, said the rustic. I rip out myself sometimes. Thundering blazes, he roared to his horse. Can't you be quiet? These devilish perturans must always be grazing and jerking. Are you lazy? He continued to the lad. I don't know. I have never worked at anything but learning Greek and Latin, and they do not tempt me much.  His hearer opened his eyes immeasurably. This was the first time he had heard this order of ideas, subversive of all the theories set up for him previously.  Bless you, I can go ten leagues and never feel it. Good, we are getting on.  Train me lower, said Petu, looking at a slender figure, bony arms and stilt-like legs. A fancy I am thin now as it is. In fact, you are a treasure, my friend. Reply the yeoman, bursting into laughter. Petu is stepping from one surprise to another. Never had he been esteemed so highly. In short, how are you at work? Don't know, for I have never worked. The girl laughed, but her father took the matter seriously. Those rogues of larned folk. He broke forth, shaking his fist at the town. Look at them training up the youth in the way they should not go, and laziness and idleness. What good is such a slugger to his brothers I want to know? Not much, said Petu. Luckily I have no brothers. By brothers I mean all mankind. Continue the farmer. Are not all men brothers, hey? The scripture says so. And equals? Proceeded the other. That is another matter, said the younger man. If I had been the equal of Father Fortier, I guess he would not have given me the whip so often. If I were the equal of my aunt, she would not have driven me from home. I tell you that all men are brothers, and we shall soon prove this to the tyrants. Said Billet, I will take you into my house to prove it. You will, but just think I eat three pounds of bread a day with butter and cheese to boot. Pooh, I see you will not be dear to feed, said the farmer. We will keep you. Have you nothing else to ask Father Petu? Enquired Catherine. Nothing mess? What did you come along for? Just to keep you company. Well, you are gallant, and I accept the compliment for what it is worth. Said the girl. But you came to ask news about your guardian, Petu. So I did. That is funny. I forgot it. You want to speak about our worthy Dr. Gilbert? Said the farmer with a tone indicating the degree of deep consideration in which he held his landlord. Just so, answered Petu. But I am not in need now. Since you house me, I can tranquilly wait till he returns from America. You will not have to wait long for he has returned. You don't say so. When? I cannot exactly say, but he was at Havre a week ago, for I have a parcel in my subtle bags that comes from him and was handed to me at Villiers-Couturettes. And here it is. How do you know it's from him? Because there is a letter in it. Excuse me, Daddy. Interrupted Catherine. But you boast that you cannot read. So I do, I want folks to say, they are his old farmer Billet who owes nothing to nobody, not even the schoolmaster, for he has himself all alone. I did not read the letter, but the rural constabulary quartermaster whom I met there. What does he say, that he is still content with you? Judge for yourself. Out of a leather wallet he took a letter which he held to his daughter, who read, My dear friend Billet, I arrive from America where I found a people richer, greater and happier than ours. This arises from their being free while we are not, but we are marching towards this new era and almost labour for the light to come. I know your principles, friend Billet, and your influence on the farmers, your neighbors, and all the honest population of toilers and hands whom you lead, not like a king, but a father. Teach them the principles of devotion and brotherhood I know you cherish. Philosophy is universal. All men ought to read their rights and duties by its light. I send you a little book in which these rights and duties are set forth. It is my work, though my name is not on the title page. Propagate these principles, those of universal equality. Get them read in the winter evenings. Reading is the food of the mind as bread is that of for the body. One of these days I shall see you and tell you about a new kind of farming practice in the United States. It consists in the landlord and the tenant working on shares of the crop. It appears to me more according to the laws of primitive society and to the love of God. Greeting and brotherly feeling. Anore Gilbert, citizen of Philadelphia. This letter is nicely written, observed Patu. I warrant it is, said Billet. Yes, father dear, but I doubt the quartermaster will be of your opinion, because this not only will get Dr. Gilbert into trouble, but you too. Oh, you are always scary, sneered the farmer. This does not hinder me having the book, and we have got something for you to do, Patu. You shall read me this in the evenings. But in the daytime, tend the sheep and cows. Let us have a squint at the book. He took out one of those sewn pamphlets and red cover issued in great quantity in those days, with or without permission of the authorities. In the latter case the author ran great risk of being sent to prison. Read us the title, Patu, till we have a peep at the book inside. The rest afterwards. The boy read on the first page these words, which usage has made vague and meaningless lately, but at that epoch they had a deep effect on all hearts. On the independence of man and the freedom of nations. What do you say to that, my lad? cried the farmer. Why, it seems to me that independence and freedom are much of a muchness. My guardian would be whipped out of class by Father Fortier for being guilty of a plenism. Fleaniesm or not, this book is the work of a real man. Rejoin the other. Never mind, Father, said Catherine with the admirable instinct of woman kind. I beg you to hide the book, and we'll get you into some bad scrape. I tremble merely to look at it. Why should it do me any harm when it has not brought it on the writer? How do you know that, Father? This letter was written a week ago, and took all that time to arrive from Havre. But I had a letter this morning from Sebastian Gilbert at Paris, who sends his lover to his foster brother. I forgot that, and he has spent three days without his father meeting him there. She is right, said Patu. This delay is alarming. Hold your tongue, you timid creature, and let us read the doctor's treaties. Said the farmer, it will not only make you lauded, but manly. Patu stuck the book under his arm with so solemn a movement that it completed the winning of his protector's heart.  Asked he. No, sir. Reply the youth. He was eating when he was driven from home. Said the girl. Will you go in and ask Mother Billet for the usual rations, and tomorrow we will set you regularly to work. With an eloquent look the orphan thanked him and conducted by Catherine he entered the kitchen governed by the absolute rule of Mother Billet. End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Taking the Best Steel This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Rita Butros. Taking the Best Steel by Alexandra Dumas. 1802 to 1870. Chapter 4. Long legs are good for running if not for dancing.  Patu appreciated his luck at the full value when he saw the golden loaf placed at his elbow, the pot of cider set on his right, and the chunk of mild-cured bacon before him.  He remembered, too, that his new duties of neat herd and shepherd had been fulfilled by gods and demigods. Besides, Mrs. B.A. had the management of the kind, and orders were not harsh from Catherine's mouth. You shall stay here, said she. I have made father understand that you are good for a heap of things. For instance, you can keep the accounts. Well, I know the four rules of arithmetic, said Patu, proudly. You are one ahead of me. Here you stay. I am glad, for I could not live afar from you. Oh, I beg pardon, but that came from my heart. I do not bear you ill-will for that, said Catherine. It is not your fault, if you like us here. Poor young lambs, they say so much in so few words. So Patu did much of Catherine's work, and she had more time to make pretty caps and titivate herself up to use her mother's words. I think you prettier without a cap on, he remarked. You may, but your taste is not the rule. I cannot go over to the town and dance without a cap on. That is all very well for fine ladies, who have the right to go bare-headed and wear powder on the hair. You beat them all without powder. Compliments again. Did you learn to make them at fortiers? No, he taught nothing like that. Dancing? Lord help us dancing at fortiers. He made us cut capers at the end of the birch. So you do not know how to dance? Still, you shall come along with me on Sunday, and see Master Isidore Sharni dance. He is the best dancer of all the gentlemen round here. Who is he? Owner of Borcian Manor. He will dance with me next Sunday. Patu's heart shrank without his knowing why. So you make yourself lovely to dance with him, he inquired. With him and all the rest. You too, if you like to learn. Next day he applied himself to the new accomplishment, and had to acknowledge that tuition is agreeable according to the tutor. In two hours he had a very good idea of the art. Ah, if you had taught me Latin, I don't believe I should have made so many mistakes, he sighed.  That's so. Well, I am not sorry I am not to be a priest. At breakfast, B.A. reminded his new man that the reading of the Gilbert pamphlet was to take place in the barn at 10 a.m. next day. That was the hour for Mass. Patu objected. Just why I pitch on it to test my lads, replied the farmer. B.A. detested religious leaders as the apostles of tyranny, and seized the opportunity of setting up one altar against another. His wife and daughter raising some remonstrance, he said that church was good enough for women folks, no doubt, and they might go and sleep away their time there, but it suited men to hear stronger stuff, or else the men should not work on his land. B.A. was a despot in his house. Only Catherine ever coped with him, and she was hushed when he frowned. But she thought to gain something for Patu on the occasion. She pointed out that the doctrines might suffer by the mouthpiece, that the reader was too shabby for the phrases to make a mark. So Patu was agreeably surprised when Sunday morning came round to see the tailor enter while he was ruminating how he could clean up, and lay on a chair a coat and breeches of sky blue cloth, and a long waistcoat of white and pink stripes. At the same time a housemaid came in to put on another chair opposite the first, a shirt and a neckcloth. If the former fitted, she was to make half a dozen. It was the day for surprises. Behind the two came the Hatter, who brought a three-cocked hat of the latest fashion, so full of style and elegance that nothing better was worn in villas catarets. The only trouble was that the shoes were too small for Ange. The man had made them on the last of his son, who was four years the senior of Patu. This superiority of our friend made him proud for his space, but it was spoiled by his fear that he would have to go to the ball in his old shoes, which would mar the new suit. This uneasiness was of short duration. A pair of shoes sent for Father B.A. were brought at the same time, and they fitted Patu. A fact kept hidden from B.A., who might not like his new man literally stepping into his own shoes. When Patu, dressed, hadded, shod, and his hair dressed, looked at himself in the mirror, he did not know himself. He grand approvingly and said, as he drew himself up to his full height, Fetch along your master Shani's now. My eyes cried the farmer, admiring him as much as the women when he strutted into the main room. You have turned out a strapper, my lad. I should like Aunt Angelique to see you thus talked out. She would want you home again. But, Papa, she could not take him back, could she? As long as he is a minor, unless she forfeited her right by driving him out. But the five years are over, said Patu quickly, for which Dr. Gilbert paid a thousand francs. There is a man for you, exclaimed B.A., just think that I am always hearing such good deeds of his. Do you see, it's life and death for him. And he raised his hand to heaven. He wanted me to learn a trade, went on the youth. Quite right of him. See how the best intentions are given a twist. A thousand francs are left to fit a lad for the battle of life, and they put him in a preschool to make a psalm singer of him. How much did your aunt give old Fortier? Nothing. Then she pocketed Master Gilbert's money? It is likely enough. Marquis P. II, I have a bit of a hint to give you. When the old humbug of a saint cracks her whistle, look into the boxes Demi-Johnson's old crocs, for she has been hiding her savings. But to business. Have you the Gilbert book? Here, in my pocket. Have you thought the matter over, Father? said Catherine. Good actions do not want any thought, replied the farmer. The Dr. Badmi have the book read, and the good principles sewn. The book shall be read, and the principles scattered. But we can go to church, ventured the maid timidly. Mother, and you can go to the pew, yes. But we men have better to do. Come alone, Petu, my men. Petu bowed to the ladies, as well as the tight coat allowed, and followed the farmer, proud, to be called a man. The gathering in the barn was numerous. B.A. was highly esteemed by his hired men, and they did not mind his roaring at them as long as he boarded and lodged them bountiously. So they had all hastened to come at his invitation. Besides, at this period, the strange fever ran through France felt when a nation is going to go to work. New and strange words were current in mouths, never pronouncing them. Freedom, independence, emancipation were heard not only among the lower classes, but from the nobility in the first place, so that the popular voice was but their echo. From the west came the light which illumined before it burnt. The sun rose in the great Republic of America, which was to be in its round a vast conflagration for France by the beams of which frightened nations were to see freedom and scribed in letters of blood. So political meetings were less rare than might be supposed. Apostles of an unknown deity sprang up from heaven knows where, and went from town to town, disseminating words of hope. Those at the head of the government found certain wheels clogged without understanding where the hindrance lay. Opposition was in all minds before it appeared in hands and limbs, but it was present sensible and the more menacing as it was intangible, like a spectre, and could be premised before it was grappled with. Twenty and more farmers, fieldhands, and neighbors of B.A. were in the barn. When their friend walked in with pittu, all heads were uncovered and all hats waved at arm's length. It was plain that these men were willing to die at the master's call. The farmer explained that the book was by Dr. Gilbert, which the young man was about to read out. The doctor was well known in the district where he owned much land, while B.A. was his principal tenant. A casque was ready for the reader, who scrambled upon it and began his task. Common folks, I may almost say, people in general, listen with the most attention to words they do not clearly understand. The full sense of the pamphlet escaped the keenest wits here, and B.A.s as well, but in the midst of the cloudy phrases shone the words freedom, independence, and equality, like lightnings in the dark. And that was enough for the applause to break forth. Hurrah! for Dr. Gilbert was shouted. When the book was read a third through, it was resolved to have the rest in two more sessions, next time on the Sunday coming, when all hands promised to attend. Pittu had read very well. Nothing succeeds like success. He took his share in the cheers for the language, and B.A. himself felt some respect arise for the dismissed pupil of Father Fortier. One thing was lacking to Ange that Catherine had not witnessed his oratorical triumph. But B.A. hastened to impart his pleasure to his wife and daughter. Mother B.A. said nothing, being a woman of narrow mind. I am afraid you will get into trouble, sighed Catherine, smiling sadly.  Father, I had warning that you were looked upon suspiciously. Who said so? A friend. Advice ought to be thanked. Tell me the friend's name. He ought to be well informed, as it is Viscount Isidore Charney. What makes that scented dandy metal with such matters? Does he give me advice on the way I should think? Do I suggest how he should cut his coat? It seems to me that it would be only touring him with the same brush. I am not telling you this to vex you, Father, but the advice is given with good intention. I will give him a piece, and you can transmit it with my compliments. Let him and his upper class look to themselves. The National Assembly is going to give them a shaking up, and the question will be roughly handled of the royal pets and favorites. Warning to his brother George, the Count of Charney, who is one of the gang and on very close terms with the Austrian leech. Father, you have more experience than we, and you can act as you please, return the girl. Indeed, said Pitu in a low voice, why does this Charney fob shove in his oar anyhow? For he was filled with arrogance from his success. Catherine did not hear, or pretended not, and the subject dropped. Pitu thought the dinner lasted a long time, as he was in a hurry to go off with Catherine and show his finery at the rustic ball. Catherine looked charming. She was a pretty black-eyed, but fair girl, slender and flexible as the willows shading the farm spring. She had tricked herself out with the natural daintiness setting off all her advantages, and the little cap she had made for herself suited her wonderfully. Almost the first of the stray gentlemen who condescended to patronize the popular amusement was a young man whom Pitu guessed to be Isidore Charney. He was a handsome young blade of twenty-three or so, graceful in every movement like those brought up in aristocratic education from the cradle. Besides, he was one of those who wear dress to the best harmony. On seeing his hands and feet, Pitu began to be less proud over nature's prodigality towards him in these respects. He looked down at his legs with the eye of the stag in the fable. He sighed when Catherine wished to know why he was so glum. But honest Pitu, after being forced to own the superiority of Charney as a beauty, had to do so as a dancer. Dancing was part of the training then. Lausam owed his fortunate court to his skill in a coranto in the royal quadril. More than one other nobleman had won his way by the manner of treading a measure and arching the instep. The vicount was a model of grace and perfection. Lord and mercy sighed Pitu when Catherine returned to him, I shall never dare to dance with you after seeing Lord Charney at it. Catherine did not answer as she was too good to tell a lie. She stared at the speaker for he was suddenly becoming a man. He could feel jealousy. She danced three or four times yet, and after another round with Isidor Charney, she asked to be taken home. That was all she had come for, one might guess. What ails you, she asked as her companion kept quiet. Why do you not speak to me? Because I cannot talk like vicount Charney was the other's reply. What can I say after all the fine things he spoke during the dances? You are unfair, Ang, for we were talking about you. If your guardian does not turn up, we must find you a patron. Am I not good enough to keep the farm books side Pitu? On the contrary, with the education you have received you are fitted for something better. I do not know what I am coming to, but I do not want to own it to vicount Charney. Why refuse his protection? His brother the Count is, they say, particularly in favor at the court, and he married a bosom friend of the Queen Mary Antoinette.  Much obliged, but as I have already told you, I am content to stay as I am, if your father does not send me away. Why the devil should I, broken or rough voice which Catherine started to recognize as her father's. Not a word about Lord Isidor whispered she to Pitu. I hardly know, I kind of feared I was not smart enough, stammered Ang. When you can count like one o'clock and read to beat the schoolmaster, who still believes himself a wise clerk, no Pitu, the good God brings people to me, and once they are under my roof tree they stick as long as he pleases. With this assurance Pitu returned to his new home. He had experienced a great change, he had lost trust in himself, and so he slept badly. He recalled Gilbert's book, it was principally against the privileged classes and their abuses, and the cowardice of those who submitted to them. Pitu fancied he began to understand these matters better, and he made up his mind to read more of the work on the moral. Rising early he went down with it into the yard where he could have the light fall on the book through an open window, with the additional advantage that he might see Catherine through it. She might be expected down at any moment. But when he glanced up from his reading at the intervention of an opaque body between him and the light he was amazed at the disagreeable person who caused the eclipse. This was a man of middle age, longer and thinner than Pitu, clad in a coat as patched and threadbare as his own, for Pitu had resumed his old clothes for the working day. While thrusting his head forward on a lank neck, he read the book with as much curiosity as the other felt relish, though it was upside down to him.  The American edition said the man snuffling up his nose, in octavo, on the freedom of man and the independence of nations, Boston, 1788. Pitu opened his eyes in proportion to the progress of the unknown reader, so that when he had reached the end his eyes were at the utmost extent. Just so, sir, said Pitu. This is the treatise of Dr. Gil Bears, said the man in black. Yes, sir, rejoined the young man politely.  In rising something fair and rosy attracted his attention at the window. It was Catherine come down at last, who was making cautionary signs to him. I do not want to be inquisitive, sir, but I should like to know whose book this is, remarked the stranger, pointing at the book without touching it as it was between Pitu's hands. Pitu was going to say it belonged to Bea, but the girl motioned that he ought to lay claim to it himself, so he majestically responded, this book is mine. The man in black had seen nothing but the book and its reader and heard but these words, but he suspiciously glanced behind, swift as a bird Catherine had vanished. Your book? Yes, do you want to read it? Avidus Legendi Librai, or Legendi Historiae? Hello, you appear much above the condition your clothes be seen, said the stranger. Non divas vestitu said ingenio, and it follows that I take you into custody. Me in custody gasp Pitu at the summit of stupefaction. At the order of the man in black, two sergeants of the Paris police seemed to rise up out of the ground. Let us draw up a report, said the man, while one of the constables bound Pitu's hands by a rope and took the book into his own possession, and the other secured the prisoner to a ring happening to be by the window. Pitu was going to bellow, but the same person who had already so influenced him seemed to hint he should submit. He submitted with a docility enchanting the policeman and the man in a black suit in particular. Hence, without any distrust, they walked into the farmhouse where the two policemen took seats at a table, while the other, we shall know what he was after presently. Scarcely had the trio gone in, then Pitu heard the voice, hold up your hands. He raised them and his head as well, and saw Catherine's pale and frightened face. In her hand she held a knife. Pitu rose on tiptoe, and she cut the rope round his wrists. Take the knife, she said, and cut yourself free from the ring-bolt. Pitu did not wait for twice telling, but found himself wholly free. Here, as a double Louis went on the girl, you have good legs, make a way, go to Paris and warn the doctor. She could not conclude for the constables appeared again as the coin fell at Pitu's feet. He picked it up quickly. Indeed, the armed constables stood on the sill for an instant, astounded to see the man free whom they had left bound. But as the dogs leased stir the hair bolts. At the first move of the police, Pitu made a prodigious leap and was on the other side of the hedge. They uttered a yell which brought out the corporal who held a little casket under the arm. He lost no time in speech-making but darted after the escaped one. His men followed his example, but they were not able to jump the hedge and ditch like Pitu and were forced to go roundabout. But when they got over they beheld the youth five hundred paces off on the meadow, tearing away directly to the woods a quarter of a league distant which he would gain in a short time. He turned at this nick and perceiving the enemy take up the chase, though more for the name of the thing than any hope of overtaking him, he doubled his speed and soon dashed out of sight in the thicket. He had the wind as well as the swiftness of the buck and he ran for ten minutes as he might for an hour. But judging that he was out of danger, by his instinct he stopped to breathe, listen and make sure that he was quite alone. It is incredible what a quantity of incidents have been crammed into three days, he mused. He looked alternately at his coin and the knife. I must find time to change the gold and give Miss Catherine a penny for the knife, for fear it will cut our friendship. Never mind, since she bade me go to Pellé, I shall go. On making out where he was he struck a straight line over the heath to come out on the Paris highroad. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Taking the Best Steel This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Rita Butros Taking the Best Steel by Alexander Dumas Chapter 5 Why the Police Agent Came with the Constables About six that morning, a police agent from the Capitol, accompanied by two inferior policemen, had arrived at Vilaire Cotteray, where they presented themselves to the police justice, and asked him to tell them where Farmer B. Yeh dwelt. Five hundred paces from the farmhouse, the corporal, as the exempt rank was in the semi-military organization of the police of the era, perceived a peasant working in the field of whom he inquired about his master. The man pointed to a horseman, a quarter of a league off. He won't be back till nine, he said. There he is, inspecting the work. He comes in for breakfast then. If you want to please your master, run and tell him a gentleman from town is waiting to see him. Do you mean Dr. Gilbert? Run and tell him all the same. No sooner was he notified than B. Yeh galloped home, but when he entered the room where he expected to see his landlord under the canopy of the large fireplace, none were there but his wife, sitting in the middle, plucking ducks with all the care such a task demands. Catherine was up in her room, preparing finery for Sunday, from the pleasure girls feel in getting ready for fun. Who asked for me, demanded B. Yeh, stopping on the threshold and looking round. Me, replied a flute-like voice behind him. Turning, the yeoman beheld the police agent and his two mermidans. How now? What do you want? he snarled, making three steps backwards. Next to nothing, dear Master B. Yeh, replied the unctuous speaker, We have to make a search in your premises, that is all.  Since we had a national assembly, he said, I thought citizens were no longer exposed to proceedings which smack of another age and style of things. What do you want with a peaceable and loyal man? Policemen are alike all the world over in their never answering questions of their victims. Some bewail them while clapping on the iron cuffs, searching them or pinioning. They are the most dangerous as they appear to be the best. The fellow who descended on Farmer B. Yeh was of the hypocritical school. Those who have a tear for those they overhaul, but they never let their hands be idle to dash away the tear. Uttering a sigh, this man waved his hand to his acolytes who went up to B. Yeh. He jumped back and reached out for his musket. But his hand was turned aside from the doubly dangerous weapon to him who made use of it and her whose pair of slight hands was strong with terror and mighty with entreaty. It was Catherine who had rushed to the spot in time to save her father from the crime of rebellion to justice. After this first outburst, B. Yeh made no further resistance. The police agent ordered him to be locked up in one of the ground floor rooms, which he had noticed to be barred, though B. Yeh, who had the grading done, had forgotten the precaution. Catherine was placed in a first floor room and Mrs. B. Yeh was shoved into the kitchen as inoffensive. Master of the fort, the exempt, set to searching all the furniture. What are you doing? roared B. Yeh, who saw through the keyhole that his house was turned out of windows. Looking as you see for something we cannot find, replied the police officer. But you may be robbers, burglars, scoundrels. Oh, you wrong us, master, rejoined the fellow through the door. We are honest folk like yourself. Only we are in the wages of the king and we have to obey his orders. His majesty's orders, repeated the farmer. King Louis the 16th gives you orders to rummage my desk and turn my things upside down when the famine was so dreadful last year that we thought of eating our horses when the hail on the 13th of July two years back cut our wheat to chaff. His majesty never bothered about us. What has happened at my farm at present for him to concern himself, never having seen or known me? You will please excuse me, said the man, opening the door a little and warily showing a search warrant issued by the chief of police. But as usual, commencing with in the king's name, his majesty has heard about you, old fellow, though he may not personally know you. Do not kick at the honor he does you and try to receive properly those whom he sends in his royal name. With a polite bow and a friendly wink, the chief policeman slammed the door and recommends the ferreting. BA held his tongue and with folded arms trod the room. He felt he was in the men's power. The searching went on silently. These men seemed fallen from the skies. No one had seen them but the farmhand who had pointed out the way to the farmhouse. In the yard the watchdogs had not barked. The leader of the expedition must be a celebrated man in his line and not making his first arrest. BA heard his daughter wailing in the room overhead. He recalled her prophetic words for he had no doubt that the investigation was caused by the doctor's book. Nine o'clock struck and BA could count his hired men returning for their morning meal from the fields. This made him comprehend that in case of conflict he could have numbers of not law on his side. This made the blood boil in his veins. He had not the temper to bear inaction any longer and grasping the door he gave it such a shaking by the handle that with such another he would send the lock flying. The police opened it at once and confronted the farmer threatening and upright before the house turned inside out. But to make it short what are you looking for roared the caged lion. Tell me or by the Lord Harry of Navarre I swear I'll thump it out of you. The flocking in of the farm lads had not escaped the corporal's alert eye. He reckoned them and was convinced that in case of a tussle he could not crow on the battlefield. With more honeyed politeness than before he sneaked up to the speaker and said as he bowed to the ground I am going to tell you master BA though it goes dead against the rules and regulations. We are looking for a subversive publication and incendiary pamphlet put on the back list by the royal censors. A book in the house of a farmer who cannot read what is there amazing in that when you are a friend of the author and he sent you a copy. I am not the friend of Dr. Gilbert but his humble servant replied the other to be his friend would be too great an honor for a poor farmer like me. This unreflected reply in which BA betrayed himself by confessing that he not only knew the author which was natural being his landlord but the book assured victory to the officer of the law. This man drew himself up to his full height with his most benignant air and smiling as he tapped BA on the shoulder so that he seemed to cleave his head in twain he said you have let the cat out of the bag you have been the first to name Gilbert whose name we kept back out of discretion that's so muttered the farmer look here I will not merely own up but will you stop pulling things about if I tell you where the book is why certainly said the chief making a sign to his associates for the book is the object of the search only he added with a sly grin don't allow you have one copy when you have a dozen I swear I have only the one we are obliged to get that down to a certainty by the most minute search master BA have five minutes farther patience we are only poor servants of justice under orders from those above us and you will not oppose honorable men doing their duty for there are such in all walks of life he had found the flaw in the armor he knew how to talk BA over go on but be done quickly he said turning his back on them the man closed the door softly and still more quietly turned the key which made BA snap his fingers sure that he could burst the door off its hinges if he had to do it on his part the policeman waved his fellows to the work all three in a trice went through the papers books and linen suddenly at the bottom of an open clothes press they perceived a small oak casket clamped with iron the corporal pounced on it as a vulture on its prey by the mere view by his scent by the place where it was stored he had defined what he saw for he quickly hit the box under his tattered mantle and beckoned to his bravos that he had accomplished the errand at that very moment BA had come to the end of his patience I tell you that you cannot find what you are looking for unless I tell you he called out there is no need to make hay with my things I am not a conspirator confound you come get this into your noddles answer or by all the blue moons I will go to Paris and complain to the king to the assembly and to the people at this time the king was still spoken of before the people yes dear master BA we hear you and we are ready to bow to your excellent reasons come let us know where the book is and as we are now convinced that you have only the single copy we will seize that and get away there it is in a nutshell well the book is in the hands of a lad to whom I entrusted it this morning to carry it to a friend's said BA what is the name of this honest lad queried the man in black coaxingly Anjpitu he is a poor orphan whom I housed from charity and who does not know the nature of the book I thank you dear master BA said the corporal throwing the linen into the hole in the wall and closing the lid and where may this nice boy be pretty I fancy I saw him as I came in under the arbor by the Spanish climbing beans go and take the book away but do not hurt him hurt oh master you do not know us to think we would hurt a fly they advanced in the indicated direction where they had the adventure with p2 already described Catherine had heard enough in the words about the doctor the book and the search warrant to save the innocent holder of the treasonable pamphlet since the double errand of the police was fulfilled the commander of the expedition was only too glad of the excuse to get far away so he bounded on his men by his voice and example till they ran him into the woods then they came to a halt in the bushes in the chase they were joined by two more policemen who had hidden on the farm with orders not to run up unless called faith it is a good job the lad did not have the box instead of the book said the organizer of the attack we would be obliged to take post horses to catch up with him hang me if he is a man at all so much as a deer but you have the prize a master wolf step said one of the subordinates certainly comrade for here it is answered the police agent to whom the nickname had been given for his side long lope or wolfish tread and its lightness then we are entitled to the promised reward a I and here you are said the captain of the squad distributing gold pieces among them with no preference for those who had actively prosecuted the search and the others long live the chief called out the man there is no harm in your cheering the chief said wolf step but it is not he who caches up this trip it is some friend of his lady or gentleman who wants to keep it in the background I wager that he or she wants that little box bad suggested one of the hirelings rigole my friend said the leader I have always certified that you are a chap full of keenness but while we wait for the gift to win its reward we had better be on the move that confounded countrymen does not look easily cooled down and when he perceives the casket is missing he may set his farm boys on our track and they are poachers capable of killing us over with a shot as surely is the best swiss marksman in his majesty's forces this advice was that of the majority for the five men kept on along the forest skirts out of sight till they reached the high road this was no useless precaution for Catherine had no sooner seen the party disappear in pursuit of pitou than full of confidence in the last one's agility who would lead them a pretty chase she called on the farm men to open the door they knew something unusual was going on but not exactly what they ran in to set her free and she liberated her father be a seemed in a dream instead of rushing out of the room he walked forth wherely and acted as if not liking to stay in any one place and yet hated to look on the furniture and cupboards disturbed by the posse they have got the book anyway he questioned I believe they took that dad but not pitou who cut away if they are sticking to him they will all be over at Kaye or Vossian by this time capital poor lad he owes all this harrying to me oh father do not bother about him but look to ourselves be easy about pitou getting out of his scrape but what a state of disorder look at this mother they are low blackboards said mother ba they have not even respected my linen press what tumbled over the linen said ba springing towards the cavity which the corporal had carefully closed but into which opening it he plunged both arms deeply it is not possible what are you looking for father asked the girl as her father looked about him bewildered look look if you can see it anywhere the casket that is what the villains were raking for dr. gilbert's casket inquired mrs. ba who commonly let others do the talking and work in critical times yes that most precious casket responded the farmer thrusting his hands into his mop of hair you frighten me father said kathryn wretch that i am cried the man in rage and fool never to suspect that i never thought about the casket oh what will the doctor say what will he think that i am a betrayer a coward a worthless fellow oh heavens what was in it dad i don't know but i answered for it to the doctor on my life and i ought to have been killed defending it he made so threatening a gesture against himself that the women recoiled in terror my horse bring me my horse roared the madman i must let the doctor know he must be apprised i told pituit to do that good no what's the use a man afoot i must ride to paris did you not read in his letter that he was going there my horse and will you leave us in the midst of anguish i must my girl i must he said kissing kathryn convulsively the doctor said if ever you lose that box or rather if it is stolen from you come to warn me the instant you perceive the loss be a wherever i am let nothing stop you not even the life of man lord what can be in it i don't know a bit but i do know that it was placed in my keeping and that i have let it be snatched away but here is my nag i shall learn where the father is by his son at the college kissing his wife and his daughter for the last time the farmer bestowed his steed and set off towards the city at full gallop end of chapter five chapter six of taking the Bastille this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org taking the Bastille by Alexander Dumont chapter six on the road pittu was spurred by the two most powerful emotions in the world love and fear panic bade him take care of himself as he would be arrested and perhaps flogged love in kathryn's voice had said be off to Paris these two stimulants led him to fly rather than run heaven is infallible as well as mighty how useful were the long legs of pittu so ungraceful at a ball in streaking it over the country as well as the knotty knees although his heart expanded by terror beats three to a second my lord charney with his pretty feet and little knees and symmetrically placed calves could not have dashed along at this gate he had gone four leagues and a half in an hour as much as is required of a good horse at the trot he looked behind nothing on the road he looked forward only a couple of women encouraged he threw himself on the turf by the roadside and reposed the sweet smell of the lucerne and marjoram did not make him forget mistress billets mild cured bacon and the pound and a half of bread which kathryn sliced off for him at every meal all france lacked bread half as good as that so dear that it originated the oft-repeated saying of dutchess polignac that the poor hungry people ought to eat cake pittu said that kathryn was the most generous creature in creation and the billet farm the most luxurious palace he turned a dying eye like the israelites crossing the jordan towards the east where the billet flesh pots smoked sighing but starting off anew he went at a job pace for a couple of hours which brought him towards damartin suddenly his expert ear reliable as a sue indians caught the ring of a horseshoe on the road he had hardly concluded that the animal was coming at the gallop then he saw it appear on a hilltop 400 paces off fear which had for a space abandoned pittu seized him afresh and restored him the use of those long if unshapely legs with which he had made such marvelous good time a couple of hours previously without reflecting looking behind or trying to hide his fright ange cleared the ditch on one side and darted through the woods to ermon onville he did not know the place but he spied some tall trees and reasoned that if they were on the skirts of a forest he was saved this time he had to beat a horse pittu's feet had become wings he went all the faster as on glancing over his shoulder he saw the horseman jump the hedge and ditch from the highway he had no more doubts the rider was after him so that he not only doubled his pace but he dreaded to lose anything by looking behind but the animal superior to the biped and running gained on him and pittu heard the rider plainly calling him by name nearly overtaken he still struggled till the cut of a whip crossed his legs and a well-known voice thundered blame you you idiot have you made a vow to found the yunker the horse's name put an end to the fugitive's irresolution oh i hear master billet he groaned as he rolled over on his back exhaustion and the lash having thrown him on the grass assured of the identity he sat up while the farmer reigned in yunker streaming with white froth oh dear master said pittu how kind of you to ride after me i swear to you that i should come back to the farm late i got to the end of the double louis miss kathryn gave me but since you've overtaken me here is the gold for it is your and let us get back a thousand devils swore the yeoman we have a lot to do at the farm i don't think where are the sleuth hounds sleuth hounds repeated pittu not understanding the nickname for what we call detective police officers though it had already entered into the language those sneaks in black continued billet if you can understand that better oh you bet that i did not amuse myself by waiting till they came up bravo drop them a flatter myself i did then if certain what did you keep on running for i thought you were their captain who had taken to horse to have me come come you are not such a dunderhead as i thought as the road is clear make an effort get up behind me on the cropper and let us hurry into dam altam i will change horses at neighbor lefance for yunker is done up so we can push ahead for paris but i do not see what use i shall be there remonstrated pittu but i think the other way you can serve me there for you have big fists and i hold it for a fact that they are going to fall to hitting out at one another in the city far from charmed by this prospect the lad was wavering when billet caught hold of him as a sack of flour and slung him across the horse regaining the road by dint of spur cudgel and heal yunker was sent along at so fair a gate that they were in dam altam in less than half an hour billet rode in by a lane not the main road to father lefance farm where he left his man and his horse in the yard to run direct into the kitchen where the master going out was butting up his leggings quick quick old mate your best horse he hailed him before he recovered from his astonishment that's maggie the good beast is just harnessed i was going out on her she'll do only i give fair warning that i shall break her down most likely what for i should like to know because i must be in paris this evening set the farmer making the masonic sign of pressing danger rider to death then answered lefran but give me yunker a bargain have a glass of wine two i have an honest land with me who is tired with traveling this far give him some refreshment in 10 minutes the gossips had put away a bottle and pitou swallowed a two pound loaf and a hunk of bacon nearly all fat while he was eating the stableman a good sort of soul rubbed him down with a wisp of hay as if he were a favorite horse thus feasted and massaged pitou swallowed a glass of wine from a third bottle emptied with so much velocity that the lad was lucky to get his share relay got upon maggie and pitou forked himself on those stiff as a pair of compasses the good beast tickled by the spur trotted bravely under the double load towards town without ceasing to flick off the flies with her robust tail the strong hares lashing the dust off pitou's back and stinging his thin calves from which his stockings had run down end of chapter six chapter seven taking the best steal this is a libravox recording all libravox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libravox.org recording by Rita Butros taking the best steal by alexander du mal chapter seven the first blood night was thickening as the two travelers reached la vilette a suburb of paris a great flame rose before them b.a. pointed out the ruddy glare they are troops camping out said pitou can't you see that and they have lighted campfires here are some so that there may naturally be more over yonder indeed on attentively looking on the right father b.a saw black detachments marching noiselessly in the shadow of san denis plan horse and foot their weapons glimmered in the pale starry light accustomed to see in the dark from his night roaming in the woods pitou pointed out to his master cannon mired to the hubs in the swampy fields ho ho muttered b.a something new is going on here look at the sparks yonder make haste my lad yes it is a house of fire see the sparks fly added the younger man maggie stopped the rider jumped off upon the pavement and going up to a group of soldiers in blue and yellow uniforms bivouacking under the roadside trees asked comrades can you tell me what is the matter in paris the soldiers merely replied with some german oaths what the deuce do they say queried b.a of his brother peasant all i can tell is that it is not latin replied the youth trembling greatly i was a fool to apply to the kaiser licks kaiser imperial austrian grenadiers muttered b.a in his curiosity still standing in the middle of the road best on mid your way said an officer stepping up on bass pretty damn quick do excuse me captain said the farmer but i want to go into paris what next as i see you are between me and the turnpike bars i feared i would not be let go by yeah you can buy go remounting b.a indeed got on but it was only to run in among the bershenny hossars swarming in la vilette this time as they were his own countrymen he got along better please what is the news from pali he asked why it's your crazy palisians who want their necker and fire their guns off at us as if we had anything to do with the matter so reply to hasar what necker have they lost him question b.a certainly the king has turned him out of office that great man turned out said the farmer with the stupor of a priest who hears of a sacrilege more than that he is on the way to brussels at present then it is a joke we shall hear some laughing over a cried b.a in a terrible voice without thinking of the danger he ran in preaching insurrection amid twelve or fifteen thousand royalist sabers remounting maggie he drove her with cruel digs of the hill up to the bars as he advanced he saw the fire more plainly a long column rose from the spot to the sky it was the barrier that was burning a howling and furious mob with women intermixed yelling and capering as usual more excitedly than the men fed the flames with pieces of the bars the clerk's office and the custom house officers property on the road hungarian and german regiments looked on at the devastation with their muskets grounded without blinking b.a did not let the rampart of flames stop him but urged maggie through smoke and fire she bravely burst through the incandescent barrier but on the other side it was a compact crowd stretching from the outer town to the heart of the city some singing some shouting two arms b.a looked what he was a good farmer coming to town on his business perhaps he roared make way there too roughly but pitou tempered it with so polite a make way if you please that one appeal corrected the other nobody had any interest in staying b.a in attending to his business and they let him go through maggie had recovered her strength from the fire having singed her hide and all this unusual clamor worried her b.a was obliged to hold her in now in the fear of crushing the idlers clasped before the town gate and the others who were as curiously running from the gates to the bars somehow or other they pushed on till they reached the boulevard where they were forced to stop a procession was marching from the Bastille to the royal furniture stores the two stone knots binding the enclosure of paris to its girth this broad column followed a funeral barrel on which were placed two buss one covered with crepe the other with flowers the one in morning was neckers the prime minister and eminently the treasurer dismissed but not disgraced the flower crowned bust was the Duke of Orleans who had openly taken the swiss financiers part b.a asking learned that this was popular homage to the banker and his defender the farmer was born in a country where the Orléans family had been venerated for a century and more he belonged to the philosophical sect and consequently regarded necker not only as a great minister but an apostle of humanity there was ample to fire him he jumped off his horse without clearly knowing what he was about and mingled with the throng yelling long live the Duke of Orleans necker forever once a man mixes with a mob his individual liberty disappears he was the more easily carried on as he was at the head of the party as they kept up the shouting long live necker no more foreign troops down with the outlandish cutthroats he added his lusty voice to the others any superiority is always appreciated by the masses the shrill weak voice of the Parisian spoiled by wine bibbing or want of proper food was nowhere beside the countryman's fresh full and sonorous roar so that without too much jostling shoving and knocking about b.a finally reached the litter in another 10 minutes one of the bearers whose enthusiasm had been too great for his strength gave up his place to him b.a you will observe had got on only the propagator of Gilbert's doctrines a day before he was now one of the instruments in the triumph of necker and the Duke of Orleans but he had hardly arrived at his post then he thought of pitou and the borrowed horse what had become of them while nearing the litter b.a looked and through the flair of the torches accompanying the turnout and by the lamps illuminating all the house windows he beheld a kind of walking platform formed of half a dozen men shouting and waving their arms in the midst it was easy to discern pitou and his long arms he did what he could to defend Maggie but spite of all the horse was stormed and was carrying all who could clamber on her back and hang on to the harness and her tail in the enlarging darkness she resembled an elephant loaded with hunters going for the tiger her vast neck had three or four fellows established on it howling three cheers for early on and necker down with the foreigners to which pitou answered all right but you will smother Maggie among ye the intoxication was general for an instant b.a thought of carrying help to his friend and horse but he reflected that he would probably lose the honor of bearing the litter forever if he gave it up he be thought him also of the bargain made by le franc about swapping the horses and anyhow if the worst happened he was rich enough to sacrifice the price of a horse on the altar of his country meanwhile the procession made way turning to the left it went down montmartre street to victoire place reaching the palais royale a great throng prevented its passing on a number of men with green leaves stuck in their hats who were hallowing two arms were these friends or foes why green cockades green being the color of count or tois the king's youngest brother after a brief parley all was explained on hearing of necker's removal from office a young man had rushed out of the foie coffee house jumped on a table in the palais royale gardens and flourishing a pistol shouted two arms all the loungers and the public strolling grounds took up the call all the foreign regiments in the french army were gathered around the capitol it looked like an austrian invasion as the regimental names graded on french ears their utterance explained the fear in the masses the young man named them and said that the swiss troops camped in the chancelizé with four field pieces were going to march into the city that night with prince lambesque's dragoons to clear the way he proposed that the town defender should wear an emblem different from theirs and plucking a horse chestnut leaf stuck it in his hat all the beholders instantly imitated him so that the three thousand persons stripped the palais royale trees in a twinkling in the morning the young man's name was unknown but it was celebrated that night it was camille de moulin men recognized one another in the crowd shook hands in token of brotherhood and all joined in with the procession at richelieu street corner biais looked back and saw the disappearance of maggie the increase of curiosity during the halt was such that more had been added to the poor animal's burden and she had sunk under the surcharge the farmer's side then collecting his powers he called out to pitou three times like the ancient romans at the funeral of their king he fancied a voice made reply out of the bowels of the earth but it was drowned in the confused uproar ascending to heaven partly cheers and partly threatening still the train proceeded all the stores were closed but all windows were open and thence fell encouragement on the marchers farther to frenzy them at vandome square an unforeseen obstacle checked the march like the logs rolling in a freshet which strike up against the piles of a bridge and rebound the leaders recoiled from a detachment of a royal german regiment these were dragoons who seeing the mob surge into the square from saint honoree street relaxed the reins of their chargers impatient at having been curbed since five o'clock and they dashed on the people at full speed the bearers of the litter received the first shock and were knocked down when it was overthrown a several yard before biais was the first to rise he picked up the effigy of prince olian and fixing it on the top of his walking stick waved it above his head crying long live the duke of olian whom he had never seen and hurrah for necker whom he did not know from adam biais was going to do the same with necker's bust but he was forestalled a young dandy in elegant attire had been watching it the easier for him than biais as he was not burdened with the barrow poles and he sprang for it the moment it reached the ground up it went on the point of a pike and set close to the other served as rallying point for the scattered processioness suddenly a flash lit up the square at the same instant bang went the report and the bullets whistled something heavy struck biais in the forehead so that he fell believing that he was killed but as he did not lose his senses and felt no hurt except pain in the head he understood that at the worst he was merely wounded he slapped his hand to his brow and perceived it was but a bump there though his palm was smeared with blood the well dressed stripling in front of the farmer had been shot in the breast it was he who was slain and his blood that had splashed biais the shock the latter felt was from necker's bust falling from want of a holder on the farmer's head he uttered a shout half rage half horror he sprang aloof from the youth writhing in the death gasp those around fell back in like manner and the yell which he gave repeated by the multitude was prolonged in funeral echoes to the last groups in saint honoree street this shout was a new proof of revolt a second volley was heard and deep gaps in the throng showed where the projectiles had passed what indignation inspired in biais and what he did in the gush of enthusiasm was to pick up the blood spattered bust wave it over his head and cheer with his fine manly voice in protest at the risk of being killed like the patriotic fop dead at his feet but instantly a large and vigorous hand came down on the farmer's shoulder and so pressed him that he had to bow to the weight he tried to rest himself from the grasp but another fist quite as strong and heavy fell on his other shoulder he turned growling to learn what kind of antagonist was this pitou he cried i am your man but stop a little and you will see why redoubling his efforts he brought the resisting man to his knees and flat on his face scarcely was this done than a second volley thundered the several yard bearing the or leon bust came down in his turn hit by a ball in the thigh then they heard iron on the paving stones the dragoons charged for the second time one horse furious and shaking his main like the steed in the apocalypse jumped over the unhappy several yard who felt the chill of a lance piercing his chest as he fell on be a and pitou the whirlwind rushed to the end of the street where it engulfed itself in terror and death nothing but corpses screwed the ground all fled by the adjacent streets the windows banged to a lugubrious silence succeeded the cheers and the roars of rage for an instant be a waited held by the prudent peasant then feeling that the danger went farther away he rose on one knee while the other like the hair in her form pricked up his ear only without raising his head i believe you are right master said the young man we have arrived while the soup is hot lend me a hand to help you out of this no the young exquisite is dead but the several yard is only in a swoon i reckon help me get him on my back we cannot leave so plucky a fellow here to be butchered by these cursed troopers be a used language going straight to pitou's heart he had no answer but to obey he took up the warm and bleeding body and loaded it like a bag of meal onto the robust farmer's back seeing sainte honoree street looked clear and deserted he took that road to the palais royale with his man end of chapter seven