# Memoirs of Vidocq, Volume III/Chapter 42

For upwards of four months, a great number of murders and highway robberies had been committed on all the roads conducting to the capital, without it having been possible to discover the perpetrators of these crimes. In vain had the police kept a strict watch upon the actions of all suspected persons—their utmost diligence was fruitless; when a fresh attempt, attended with circumstances of the most horrible nature, supplied them with hints from which they could at length anticipate bringing the culprits to justice. A man named Fontaine, a butcher living at La Courtille, was going to a fair in the district of Corbeil, carrying with him his leather bag, in which was safely deposited the sum of 1,500 francs; he had passed the Cour de France and was walking on in the direction of Essonne, when, at a trifling distance from an auberge where he had ​had stopped to take some refreshment, he came up with two very well-dressed men. As evening was approaching, Fontaine was not sorry to obtain fellow travellers; he therefore addressed the two strangers, who were not slow in returning his salutation, and a conversation soon arose between them. "Good evening, gentlemen," said he to them.—"The same to you," replied they. "We shall soon have night overtake us," resumed the butcher. "We shall indeed, sir," answered one of the two pedestrians, "and at this season of the year we must not reckon upon much assistance from the twilight."
"I should care very little about it," added Fontaine, "but, unfortunately, I have still a considerable distance to walk to-night."
"And where may you be proceeding to, if it be not too impertinent a question?"
"Where am I going? Why, to Milly, to purchase sheep."
"In that case, if agreeable to you, we may as well join company; my friend and self are proceeding to Corbeil on business, so that chance has been most favourable to us."
"Agreed!" exclaimed the butcher, "things could not have fallen out better; nor shall I be slow in profiting by it; for, in my humble opinion, when one has money about one, travelling in good company is far more pleasant than being quite alone."
"You have money about you, then?"
"You are right there, my friend, and a pretty considerable sum too."
"Well, we likewise have large sums; but we were informed that we ran no risk, as this part of the country was considered perfectly safe."
"Indeed! I am glad to hear it; but, were it otherwise, I have something here (showing a huge stick) that would make a tolerable resistance; besides, I think, the most daring thieves would hardly have the ​courage to attack three such formidable antagonists as we should make."
"No, no; they would not dare to meddle with us."
Conversing thus, the trio reached the door of a small house, which the branch of juniper, decorating the entrance, designated as a cabaret. Fontaine proposed to his companions to take a bottle together. They entered; procured some Beaugency at eight sols the flask, and seated themselves to enjoy it. The cheapness of the wine—its harmless nature—their meeting with it at a time when weariness had begun to steal over at least one of the party—were so many reasons for lengthening their stay.—At last they rose to depart; and a general emulation arose as to who should defray the reckoning. Nearly an hour, during which more than one fresh bottle was discussed, passed in this amicable dispute; which, being at last yielded in favour of Fontaine, completed the elevation of his spirits, and raised him to the highest pitch of gaiety. Under similar circumstances, what man could have harboured suspicion?
Poor Fontaine, delighted at having met with such agreeable companions, thought he could not do better than take them as guides for the remaining part of his journey; and in full confidence of their integrity, abandoned himself to their guidance along the by-road they were then travelling. He walked on, therefore, with one of his newly found friends, whilst the second followed close behind. The night was very dark, scarcely allowing the travellers to distinguish one step before the other; but guilt, with its lynx-like eye, can penetrate the thickest gloom; and while Fontaine was unsuspectingly following the path recommended by his companion, the one who remained behind him struck him over the head a violent blow with his cudgel, which made him reel: surprised, but not intimidated, he was about to turn round to defend himself, when a second blow, more fatal than the first, brought him to ​the ground: immediately the other robber, armed with a short dagger, threw himself upon him, and ceased not to deal out murderous wounds, till he believed his victim had ceased to exist.
Fontaine had yielded after a long and desperate struggle, and lay as apparently lifeless as his assassins would have had him. They quickly stripped him of the contents of his money-bag, with which they made off, leaving him weltering in his blood. Happily, it was not long before a passenger, attracted by his groans, came to his succour, and discovered the wretched man, whom the freshness of the night air had recalled to his senses. After having rendered him what assistance was in his power, the stranger hastened to the nearest hamlet in search of further aid—information was immediately dispatched to the magistrates of Corbeil—the attorney-general arrived without delay at the place of crime, and commenced the most diligent inquiries respecting the slightest circumstances attending it. Eight and twenty wounds, more or less deep, bore ample testimony how much the murderers had feared that their victim should escape them. Spite of the cruelty of their intention, Fontaine was yet able to utter a few words, although his extreme exhaustion from loss of blood rendered him unable to give all the particulars which were necessary for the ends of justice. He was removed to the hospital, and at the end of two days, so favourable a change took place, that he was pronounced out of danger.
The most minute exactitude had been observed in removing the body. Nothing had been neglected which might lead to the discovery of the assassins. Accurate impressions were taken of the footmarks; buttons, fragments of paper dyed in blood were carefully collected: on one of these pieces, which appeared to have been hastily torn off to wipe the blade of a knife found at no great distance from it, was observed some written characters, but they were without any connecting sense, and, consequently, unable to afford any information ​likely to throw a light on the affair. Nevertheless, the attorney-general attached a great importance to the explanation of these fragments; and, upon more narrowly exploring the spot where Fontaine had been found lying, a second morsel was picked up, which presented every appearance of being part of a torn address: by dint of close examination, the following words were deciphered:—
A Monsieur Rao— Marchand de vins, bar— Roche— Cli—
This piece of paper seemed to have once formed part of a printed address; but of whose address? It was at present wholly impossible to make out. However that might be, as no circumstance is too slight to deserve notice in the absence of more substantial proofs, notes were carefully made of everything that might be hereafter available information. The magistrates assembled on this occasion received the thanks their extreme zeal and ability so fully merited. As soon as they had fulfilled this part of their mission, they returned with all haste to Paris, in order to concert further plans with the judicial and administrative authority. At their desire, I had immediate conference with them, and, furnished with a procès verbal prepared by them, I opened the campaign against the assassins. Their victim had sufficiently described them; but how could I place implicit reliance on information proceeding from such a source? Few men in imminent danger can preserve sufficient presence of mind to take accurate views of all that is passing; and upon the present occasion I was the more inclined to doubt the testimony of Fontaine, from the extreme nicety with which he detailed the most trifling particulars; he related, that during the long struggle he had with the assailants, one of them had fallen on his knees, uttering a cry of pain; and that he heard him moaning and complaining to his accomplice of suffering extreme pain. Similar remarks ​to this which he pretended to have made, appeared to me very extraordinary, considering the state in which he was found. I could not bring myself to believe that he himself felt quite assured of the correctness of his reminiscences. I determined, nevertheless, to turn them to the best account I could; but still I required a more definite point to start from. The torn address was, in my estimation, an enigma, which must first be solved; and, to effect this, I racked my brains day and night, and at last felt satisfied, that, excepting the name, (respecting which I had but few doubts,) the perfect address would run thus:—
A Monsieur ——, Marchand de vins, Barrière Rochechouart. Chaussée de Clignancourt.
It was therefore evident that the assassins were in league with a wine-merchant of that neighbourhood;—perhaps the wine-merchant himself was one of the perpetrators of the crime. I set my plans to work, so as to know the truth as quickly as possible; and before the end of the day I was satisfied that I had been right in directing my suspicions towards an individual named Raoul. This man had become known to me under very unfavourable auspices; he passed for one of the most daring traffickers in contraband goods, and the cabaret kept by him had long been marked out as the rendezvous where a crowd of suspicious persons nightly celebrated their riotous orgies. Raoul had moreover married the sister of a liberated galley-slave; and I was informed that he was linked in with persons of both sexes, of characters as desperate as their fortunes. In a word, his reputation was that of a loose and profligate man; and whenever a crime was denounced, if he had not positively participated in it, all thought themselves warranted in saying to him, "If it were not done by yourself, at least it was the work of your brother, or some of your relations."
Raoul, however, contrived to anticipate every scheme ​laid for entrapping him, either through his own sagacity, or the hints of his associates. I resolved, as a first step, to keep a careful watch over all the approaches to the cabaret; and I charged my agents to observe, with a scrutinizing eye, the different persons who frequented it, in order to ascertain whether, amongst the number, there might not be found one who was wounded in the knee. While my spies were at the post I had assigned to them, my own observations soon informed me that Raoul was in the constant habit of receiving at his house one or two persons of infamous character, with whom he seemed upon terms of the closest intimacy. The neighbours affirmed that they were frequently seen going out together, that they made long absences, and that it was universally believed that the greater part of honest Raoul's profits were those drawn from his dealings in contraband goods. A wine-merchant, who possessed the greatest facility of observing what was going on in Raoul's domicile, told me that he had often observed these worthy friends stealing from the house in the gloom of the evening, and returning at an early hour the following morning, apparently exhausted with fatigue, and splashed up to the neck. I further learned that he had set up a target in his garden, and was constantly practising firing with a pistol. Such were the particulars I gathered respecting this notable character from all who knew any thing of him. At the same time my agents brought me the intelligence of their having observed at the house of Raoul a man, whom, for many reasons, they surmised to be one of the assassins we were in search of. This person had first attracted their suspicions by a halt in his gait, proceeding not so much from habitual lameness, as from recent injury; and upon further examination of his person and dress, both were found in close agreement with the description given by Fontaine of one of the robbers. My agents further informed me that the man in question was generally accompanied by his wife; and that both appeared on the best possible terms with Raoul. My emissaries ​had succeeded in tracing their abode, which was on the first floor of a house situated in the Rue Coquenard; and here, in the apprehension of giving the slightest hint of their suspicions to the suspected party, their investigations had rested.
These particulars strengthened all my conjectures, and I was no sooner in possession of them, than I determined to go myself, and watch near the house which had been described to me. It was now night, and I was compelled to defer my purpose till the coming morn; however, before the sun had risen, I was on the look-out in the Rue Coquenard. I remained there without perceiving anything worthy of notice till four o'clock in the afternoon, and was beginning to grow impatient of the little success our plans seemed likely to realize, when my agents pointed out to me an individual, whose features and name suddenly occurred to my memory. "See! there he is," cried they; and scarcely had my eyes glanced over him, than I recognised a person named Court, whom, from previous circumstances fresh in my recollection, I instantly set down as one of the assassins I was in search of. His principles, which were of the most abandoned nature, had drawn down upon him, on many important occasions, severe consequences. He had just been punished by a six months' imprisonment for some fraudulent act, and I well remembered having arrested him once before for a highway robbery. In a word, he was one of those degraded beings who, like Cain, bore on his forehead the stamp of shame and death.
Without being much of a prophet, one might boldly have predicted that this man was destined to a scaffold. One of those presentiments, which have never deceived me, told me that he had at length reached the term of that perilous career to which a blind fatality had conducted him. However, not wishing to hazard success by precipitancy, I inquired, with all possible caution, what were his means of procuring a subsistence. No one could satisfy me; and it appeared a notorious ​truth, that he was never known either to possess a shilling, or to have any ostensible method of earning one. The neighbours, when questioned, assured me that he led a most dissolute life, and, in fact, was considered as a person of extremely bad connections and pursuits; his very look would have condemned him in a court of justice; and for my own self, who had such powerful reasons for concluding both himself and his confederate Raoul to be finished rogues and highwaymen, it may be readily supposed I lost no time in applying for warrants for their apprehension. The necessary papers were no sooner asked for than given; and the very next morning, almost before daylight appeared, I repaired to the house where Court lodged; having ascended the stairs till I reached the landing-place on the first floor, I knocked at his door.
"Who is there?" asked a voice from within.
"Who should it be but Raoul?" said I, imitating the voice of the latter; "come, come, friend, open the door."
"Well, don't be in a hurry then," answered he; and, listening, I could distinctly hear the hasty movements of someone preparing to unfasten the door, which was no sooner unclosed, than, believing he was speaking to his friend Raoul, "Well," exclaimed he, "what news? anything fresh turned up?"
"Yes, yes," replied I, "I have a thousand things to say to you;" but by this, through the glimmer of morning twilight, he discovered his error, and cried out, in a voice expressive of the greatest alarm, "Bless me, if it is not Monsieur Jules!" (This was the name which I was generally called by common women and thieves.)
"M. Jules!" repeated the wife of Court, still more alarmed than her husband.
'Suppose it is M. Jules," said I, "why should that frighten you? The devil is never so black as he is painted."
"To be sure," observed the husband; "M. Jules is ​a good fellow; and although he nabbed me once, never mind, I owe him no ill-will for it."
"I know that, my regular," said I; "besides, why should you be angry with me? is it my fault if you do a bit of moonlight?"
"Moonlight! Ah!" replied Court, with the accent of a man who felt himself all at once relieved of the weight of a mountain; "moonlight, oh, M. Jules, if it were so, you know very well I should make no secret of it with you; however, you are welcome to look about you, and see what is to be seen."
Whilst he was every moment becoming more tranquil as to the nature of my visit, I proceeded to turn over everything in the apartment, in which I found a pair of pistols ready loaded and primed; some knives; clothes, which appeared to have been recently washed; with several other articles, all of which I seized.
There now only remained to put the finishing stroke to my expedition, by arresting both husband and wife; for, to have allowed either of them to remain at large, would have ensured the destruction of my plan for entrapping Raoul, who would have learned from them sufficient to defeat my schemes. I therefore conducted them both to the station in the Place Cadet. Court, whom I had pinioned, relapsed all of a sudden into his original terror, and became gloomy and pensive. The precautions taken by me rendered him uneasy, and his wife appeared to participate in his terrible reflections. Their consternation was complete, when, upon our arrival at the guard-house, they heard me give orders that they should be kept apart and carefully watched. I directed that they should be plentifully supplied with food; but they were neither hungry nor thirsty.
Whenever Court was questioned on the subject, a mournful shake of the head was the only answer returned; and eighteen hours elapsed without his opening his lips. His eye was fixed and heavy, and his whole countenance rigid and immovable. This impassability convinced me but too well that he was guilty. Under ​similar circumstances I have almost always observed the two extremes, a profound silence, or an extreme volubility.
Court and his wife being in a place of safety, my next business was to seize Raoul. I immediately repaired to his cabaret; he was not at home. The waiter left in charge of the house told me that he had slept at Paris, where he possessed a small country seat; but that being Sunday, he would be sure to return home quite early.
This absence of Raoul was a mischance I had not calculated upon, and I trembled, least on his way home the whim might have seized him of calling upon his friend Court. In that case he would of course have learned his arrest; and the knowledge of that might put him too much on his guard to enable me to lay hold of him. I feared likewise that he might have had a view of our expedition from the Rue Coquenard; and my apprehensions were redoubled when the waiter told me that his master's country house was in the Fauxbourg Montmartre. He had never been at it, and could not point out the road to me, but he believed it was in the close vicinity of the Place Cadet. Every additional particular I derived from him redoubled my fears, and led me to attribute the unusual absence of Raoul from his business to his having got scent of my intentions towards him.
At nine o'clock he had not returned; and the waiter, whom I questioned as closely as I could do, without allowing him to see into my designs, appeared all wonder and uneasiness that his master should thus delay his return upon so busy a day as Sunday invariably was with them. Even the servant, who was busied in preparing the breakfast I had ordered for myself and my agents, expressed her surprise at her master, and still more her mistress, being so much less exact to their usual hour for appearing than she had ever known them. "If I only knew where to send to," said the poor woman, "I would certainly inquire whether any accident can have befallen them." Al​though fully persuaded that her fears were without foundation, I felt as much at a loss as the whole household to guess the true reason of his non-appearance. Twelve o'clock struck, still no tidings had reached us, and I began really to believe that the train had blown up, when the waiter, who had for the last half hour been posted sentry before the door, came running towards me, crying out, "Here he is, here he comes!"
"Who wants me?" asked Raoul as he entered. But scarcely had his foot crossed the threshold, than, recognising me, he exclaimed, "Bless me, M. Jules! why, what brings you in our neighbourhood this morning?" He had evidently not the slightest suspicion that it was on his account I had come, and I endeavoured to lead him still further from guessing the true nature of my visit. "So, friend!" said I, "so you are a liberal, are you?"
"A liberal!"
"Yes, even so; and you are further accused——but this is no place for conversation. Can I speak to you alone?"
"Certainly; step up to the room on the first floor, and I will follow you in a minute.'*
I did so, after having by signs instructed my agents to keep a strict eye over Raoul, and to take him into custody if he discovered the least disposition to quit the house. However, the unhappy man had no intention of escape, for in a very few minutes he joined me, and, with a look and manner expressive of jovial content, desired I would let him into the mighty mystery of my proceedings.
"Well, then," said I, "now that we can converse without interruption, I will frankly explain the cause of my present visit. But tell me first, can you not partly guess it?"
"Not I, upon my honour."
"You have already experienced great inconveniences ​on account of those goguettes which you have persisted in holding in your cabaret, spite of the formal prohibition issued by the police against them. Information has been given that every Sunday there are meetings held in your house, at which seditious toasts and songs libelling government are permitted. Not only is it known that you countenance the assembling of a mass of suspicious characters, but it is understood that this very day a more than usual number is expected to collect within these walls from twelve to four o'clock. You see there is no blinding the police as to your goings on. This is not all; you are further accused of having in your possession a vast quantity of disloyal and immoral songs, which are so carefully con​cealed by you, that my orders were not to appear before you except in a disguise, that would have prevented your recognising my person, and to defer my operations till the gentlemen of the goguette should have opened their meeting. I am truly concerned to be charged with so very unpleasant a mission. Had I been apprized that you were the person alluded to, I should most certainly have declined the office; for with you, what would a disguise avail me?"
Raoul smiled, "I think, master Jules," said he, "I should have been much amused at seeing you attempt to deceive me that way."
"Still," continued I, "it is better for you that I should be employed on this business than a stranger; you know very well that I have no ill will against you. So take my advice, and give me up every song in your possession; and further, to dispel the present doubts against you, refuse admission to every person whose presence here might, in the most trifling degree, compromise your safety."
"Upon my word," said Raoul, "I had no notion before now deep a politician you were."
"Why, as to that, friend," cried I, "a little of every thing is a useful trade, and I for one, find that if I desire to get on in this world, I must be able to ride on any saddle."
"Well," replied Raoul, "you can't help it, Master Jules, but as true as my name is Clair Raoul, I swear to you that I am wrongly accused. People have surely gone mad! I, who think of nothing but just how to earn a bit of honest bread! What a world is this! Nothing but envy and spite against those who seem likely to meet with any thing like success!—however, M. Jules, if you doubt my word, you can easily judge for yourself-just make up your mind to stay here with your people; observe us well throughout the day, and form your own opinion of our principles and loyalty."
"Agreed," said I, "but hark ye, friend Raoul, no ​gammon if you please; you are just the chap to destroy all these objectionable songs, and nothing would be easier than for you to give a hint to your company, that would effectually silence the goguette singers from committing themselves in my hearing."
"Who do you take me for, sir?" exclaimed Raoul with quickness. "I am incapable of such conduct; if I promise you to let every thing proceed as if you were not present, nothing could induce me to deviate from it; you can either believe me or not, at your pleasure, but to convince you of my honour in the business, you shall remain by my side the whole of the day; I pledge myself not to breathe one word respecting you to a living soul, not even to my wife when she comes home, so that you may be very sure;—however, you will, I hope, see no objection to my attending to my customers as usual."
"Assuredly not; let every thing go on as usual, and to lull all suspicion I don't care if I lend you a helping hand."
"Your offer is too agreeable to be refused," replied Raoul; "so if you please, M. Jules, we will proceed to work at once."
"Come on then," said I, and we descended the stairs together. Raoul prepared his huge carving-knife, and, with my sleeves tucked up, and a napkin fastened before me, I aided him in carving the veal, which, with the accompaniment of sorrel sauce, was destined for the banquet of the Luculluses of the cabaret. From the veal we proceeded to the mutton; we set out some dozens of chops in the most tempting manner, and trimmed up the leg, that delicate morsel so generally relished and longed for. I next assisted in preparing some turkeys for the spit, after which we cleared away the litter, and repaired to the wine cellar, where I made myself equally useful, by helping my companion to manufacture genuine wine at six sols the flask.
During this operation I was quite alone with Raoul, who passed me off to every one as his most intimate ​friend. I stuck as close to him as his very shadow, and he himself appeared as unable to dispense with me as with his large carving knife. I must confess that several times I trembled lest he should suspect the motive of my watching him so closely; had he done so, he would certainly have murdered me, and I must have perished beneath his violence, without any human creature being able to assist me; happily he saw in me only a familiar of the political inquisition, and as to the seditious imputations urged against him, he was perfectly at his ease.
Up to four o'clock I continued my assistance as second in office, when the commissary of police, (now head of the second division,) whom I had informed of the affair, arrived. I was on the ground floor, when I perceived him at a distance, and hastening to him, I begged he would not make his appearance for a few minutes. I then returned to Raoul, and affecting to be exceedingly angry, "The devil take them!" cried I, "the police have just sent to me to say that our business lies at your house in Paris, and that we must remove thither instantly."
"Oh, if that be all," said Raoul, "let us go there at once."
"Yes," replied I, "and when we are there we shall be ordered back again here; faith, they do not stand very nice as to the trouble they give us with the contradictory orders! if I were in your place, since we are in your house, I would send to request the commissary of police to allow your premises to be searched; it would be a convincing argument that you were wrongly accused."
Raoul applauded this advice as most excellent, did as I recommended, and having obtained the commissary's consent, the strictest search took place, without, however, its producing anything to criminate him.
"Well," cried he, (when the whole was concluded,) with that tone of exultation which might have sprung from a man of conscious integrity; "Well, gentlemen, I ​hope you are now satisfied. Upon my word, I do not think myself at all well used to be suspected and searched in this manner. Why you could not have done more had I committed murder!"
The assurance with which the latter part of the sentence was pronounced really startled me, and for a moment I repented of having ever suspected him, but the many reasons I had for concluding him guilty quickly effaced my regret. Still it was frightful to consider that a robber and murderer like himself, whose hands were yet reeking with the blood of his victim, could, without a shudder, utter words which thus recalled his guilt. Raoul was calm and almost triumphant in his manner; and when we were seated in the hackney-coach which was to transport us to Paris, an indifferent spectator might have supposed he was proceeding to a festival; he rubbed his hands, and said with all the glee imaginable, "I am thinking how my wife will be astonished at seeing me return to her in such good company." It happened to be his wife who opened the door; at the sight of us her countenance underwent not the slightest alteration; she presented us with seats, but as we had but little time to lose, the commissary and myself immediately set to work to perform our task of examining the house. Raoul did not appear desirous of quitting us for a moment, but guided us through our search with the utmost complaisance.
In order to give a colouring to the story I had first told him, we affected the greatest solicitude respecting his papers; he gave me the key of his escritoire. I seized upon a bundle of papers, and the first upon which I cast my eyes was a direction, part of which had been torn off. Instantly the shape of the torn fragment, on which was written the address found on the place of murder, and affixed by the magistrates of Corbeil to their procès verbal, occurred to my recollection. The piece now before me had evidently formed part of it. The commissary to whom I communicated my opinion coincided with me in it. Raoul ​had at first seen us take up the note and examine it, with perfect indifference: possibly, he might not himself recollect, just at that moment, its fatal signification; but as he observed our scrutiny more and more directed to it, his memory evidently refreshed him with its full force: his countenance changed in an instant; the muscles of his face contracted; a ghastly paleness came over him; and springing towards a drawer in which were his loaded pistols, he endeavoured to seize them; when, by an equally rapid movement, my agents and myself threw ourselves upon him, and soon deprived him of all power of resistance.
It was nearly midnight when Raoul and his wife were conducted to the prefecture;—Court arrived there a quarter of an hour afterwards. The two accomplices were separately confined. Up to this period there had been nothing but presumptive evidence against them; I therefore undertook to obtain their own confession whilst they remained in their first stupor. It was on Court that I first employed my eloquence. I worked him, as it is called, in every possible way. I used every species of argument to convince him that it was to his own interest to make a full avowal.
"Take my advice," said I to him, "declare the truth of the matter; why should you persist in endeavouring to conceal what is known to every one? you will find, by the very first question put to you at your examination, that your judges are much better informed than you think for—death has not sealed the lips of all the persons you have attacked. Many of those you believed your victims will produce overwhelming proofs against you; you may be silent if you please, but your silence will not prevent your condemnation; public execution is not all you expose yourself to; think of the punishments and severity with which your obstinacy will be visited; justly irritated against you, the magistrates will show you no mercy up to the hour of your execution; you will be watched, tormented, worse even than by the tortures of a slow consuming fire: if you persist in ​your obstinate refusal to make a full confession, your prison will be a perfect hell to you. On the contrary, by avowing your past iniquities, expressing sorrow and contrition for them, and meeting your fate with resignation, (since you cannot hope to escape from it,) you will at least have a chance or exciting the pity of mankind, and the humane consideration of those appointed to try you."
I had carefully foreborne mentioning to Court of what murder he was accused; fully impressed with the idea of his having been accessary to more than one, I avoided specifying that of which he then stood charged. I hoped that, by using only vague words, and refraining from every precise detail, I might be enabled to draw him on to the confession of other crimes besides the one for which he was then in custody. Court reflected for a moment-
"Well, then," said he, "since you advise it, I will acknowledge that it was I who murdered the travelling poulterer.—Why, his soul must have stuck faster to his body than I guessed it could—poor devil! and did he really come back to life after such a dressing as I gave him? I'll tell you, M. Jules, how the thing happened, and I wish I may die if I tell a lie about it:—A number of Normans were returning home, after having sold their wares at Paris. I fancied they must be loaded with money, and in consequence lay in wait for them. I stopped the two first who came by, but found little or nothing upon them. I was at that time in the most extreme necessity: want drove me on to the deed, for my wife was destitute of every thing, and the thoughts of her wretched state wrung my heart. At last, whilst I was giving myself up to despair, I heard the noise of wheels: I hastened to meet it; it was a poulterer's cart; the poor wretch was half asleep when called to him to deliver up his purse. He emptied his pockets. I felt in them myself, but his whole possessions were 80 francs!—80 francs! what was that to me who was in debt to every one? I owed two ​quarters' rent, and my landlord was hourly threatening to turn us out of doors. To heighten my misery, I was dunned by other creditors equally merciless. What was I to do with this paltry supply of 80 francs? Rage took possession of me. I seized my pistols, and, without one moment's reflection, discharged them both at my gentleman's heart. A fortnight afterwards I learned that he still lived! you may imagine, therefore, that my present situation does not surprise me; for, since the moment I have been describing to you, I have never enjoyed one hour's peace, in the fear of his paying me off sooner or later."
"Your fears were well founded," said I, "but this unfortunate dealer in poultry is not your only victim; what do you expect from the butcher whom you pierced through and through with your knife, after having carried off his purse?"
"Oh, as to that," exclaimed the villain, "may God receive his soul! I will answer for it, that if he witnesses against me, it can only be at the last judgment."
"You are mistaken, the butcher did not die of his wounds, any more than the former victim you were speaking of."
"Ah! so much the better," cried Court.
"No, he lives; and I must warn you that he has pointed out both you and your accomplices, in a manner too distinct to admit of any mistake."
Court endeavoured to persist in affirming that he had no accomplices; but he became weary of his own falsehood, and at length admitted that Clair Raoul had participated in the crime for which he was accused. I urged him (but in vain) to name others as well: he maintained the same story, and I was compelled to content myself with what I had already drawn from him; however, in the fear of his retracting, I summoned the commissary, in whose presence Court repeated, and even enlarged upon, what he had previously told me.
​To have brought Court to an acknowledgment of his crime, and to obtain from him a written declaration of it, was no doubt an important point gained; but a more difficult battle remained to be fought ere Raoul could be persuaded to follow his example. To effect this, I stole softly to the room in which he was confined. He was sleeping; and, stepping cautiously in the fear of awaking him, I placed myself beside him, and whispered gently in his ear, in the hope of leading him, as under the influence of a dream, to answer the questions thus put to him. Without raising the low tone in which I had first addressed him, I interrogated him as to the particulars of the murder. Some unintelligible words escaped him, but it was impossible to make any sense of them. This scene lasted for nearly a quarter of an hour, when, at my asking him "What became of the knife with which you murdered your victim?" he gave a sudden start, uttered some inarticulate sounds, and, flinging himself from the bed on which he was lying, opened his wild and glaring eyes full upon me, as if he dreaded the apparition of some horrid vision.
From the terror and astonishment with which he continued to regard me, even after he had recognised my person, it might easily be perceived that he dreaded my having been the witness to his late severe internal struggle, and I could readily see in his eyes the eagerness with which he sought to divine how far his restless guilty conscience had betrayed him during his unquiet slumbers. A cold perspiration covered his face, he was deathly pale, and whilst he endeavoured to force a smile, his teeth chattered and ground together in spite of him; he presented an exact representation of a damned spirit in all the tortures of an agonizing conscience—a second Orestes pursued by the furies. Ere the last vapours of his uneasy dreams had passed away, I wished to turn the circumstance to account; it was not the first time I had called the night-mare to my aid.
​"You appear," said I to Raoul, "to have had a frightful dream; you have been talking a great deal, and seemed to be in great pain: I could not bear to see you suffer so much, and woke you to dispel the anguish and remorse to which you seemed a prey. Do not feel displeased at this language—it is in vain to dissimulate further; the confessions of your friend, Court, have informed us of every thing—justice is in full possession of every circumstance relative to the crime whereof you are accused. Do not seek to palliate your participation in it,—the evidence of your accomplice cannot be invalidated by any thing you can say; if you seek to save yourself by a system of denial, the voice of your unhappy associate will confound you in the presence of your judges; and if that be not sufficient, the butcher whom you murdered near Milly will appear as your accuser."
At these words I steadily examined the countenance of Raoul; a slight discomposure was observable in his features, but it soon passed away, and recovering himself, he replied with firmness:—
"M. Jules, you are trying to entrap me; you only throw away your time; you are deep and cunning, but I know my own innocence. As to what you say of Court, you will not persuade me that he is guilty; still less do I believe that he can have implicated my name, when there exists not the slightest appearance of probability of his doing so."
I again declared to Raoul that it was useless for him to seek to conceal the truth from me—"Well, then," said I, "if nothing else will do, you shall be confronted with your friend; we shall then see whether you will venture to persist in denying the facts he has sworn to."
"Let him come," cried Raoul, "I do not ask for any thing better; I am confident that Court is incapable of a bad or dishonourable action.—Why should he accuse himself of a crime he has not committed, and implicate me in it for mere wantonness? unless indeed he has lost his senses, which is not very likely.—Hark ye, M. ​Jules; I am so certain of what I assert, that if he says he committed this murder, and that I had a share in it, I consent to pass for the greatest scoundrel that ever walked the earth.—I will acknowledge, as true, whatever he may say; and, I further engage, either to clear my innocence through his means, or to ascend the same scaffold with him.—I do not dread the guillotine, whether its blow descend for this or any other offence; if Court confirms what you have said, be it so—all is over—the veil is raised, and two heads will fall at once."
I quitted him in these dispositions, and went to propose the interview to his comrade: this latter, however, refused, declaring that, after the confession he had made, he had not the courage to encounter Raoul.—"Since I have regularly signed and attested my deposition," said he, "let it be read to him, it will suffice to convince him; besides, he will recognise my writing."
This repugnance, which I was far from expecting, vexed me so much the more, as I have frequently known the thoughts of a man arraigned of crime to change in an instant from one opinion to the opposite extreme. I exerted all my influence to overcome Court's objections, and at length succeeded in deciding him to act as I wished. After a trifling delay, the two friends found themselves in each other's presence: they embraced; and the ingenuity of Court suggested to him a ruse by which to palliate his having involved his coadjutor in his acknowledgment of guilt; and this, without having originated in my advice, materially assisted my plans:—"Friend Raoul cried Court, "I am informed you have followed my example, and made a full confession of our unfortunate crime. It was the very best thing we could either of us do; for, as M. Jules observes, there are too many convincing proofs against us, to make further denial of any avail."
The person to whom these words were addressed stood for an instant as if petrified with astonishment; ​but, quickly gathering his spirits,—"Faith, M. Jules!" exclaimed he, "you have managed well—we are both completely drawn! Now, then, as I am a man of my word, I will keep that I gave you, by concealing nothing;" and immediately he began a recital which fully confirmed that of his associate. These new revelations having received the usual forms of law, I remained in conversation with the two assassins, who bore their part in it with inexhaustible mirth and hilarity, the general effect of confession with the greatest criminals. I supped with them, and although they ate heartily they drank very moderately. Their countenances had resumed their usual calmness, and no vestige was perceptible of the late catastrophe; they looked upon it as a settled thing, that by their confession they bad undertaken to pay their debt to offended justice.
After supper I informed them that we should set out in the night for Corbeil. "In that case," said Raoul, "it is not worth while going to bed;" and he begged of me to procure him a pack of cards. When the vehicle which was to convey us was ready, they were as deeply engaged with their game of piquet, as any two peaceful citizens of Paris could have been.
They ascended the carriage without appearing to suffer the least emotion at so doing, and we had scarcely reached the Barrière d'Italie, when they were happily asleep and snoring; nor had they aroused themselves, when, at eight o'clock in the morning, we entered Corbeil.