“Adolphe, my friend, I must tell you that at that time my fortune was
complete. I was dreaded and yet liked by all. I was even liked by my
victims. I despoiled them so gallantly that they went their way along
through the city singing my praises. I had not yet been attacked by that
wonderful sanguinary instinct which some months later made me commit the
most atrocious crimes. Everything prospered with me; everybody feared me
and loved me. I was happy, merry, of a magnificent audacity, gallant in
love, and the ruler of Paris. They said that I was the greatest of
all robbers; that was only half true, because it was imperative that I
should partake of the sovereignty with M. Law, the Controller-General of
Finance. My glory was at its zenith; for often he and his people paid
me tribute. But he imagined he might excite the Regent against me. One
evening when I had stolen into his room in his hotel, disguised as
a lackey to Lord Dermott, the Regent sent for Monsieur d’Argenson,
keeper of the seals, and told him that he had eight hours in which to
arrest me. M. d’Argenson promised everything he wanted, provided they
let him go by the way of the Convent of the Madeline du Frainel, where
his mistress, Mlle. Husson, had taken refuge. Eight hours later, M.
d’Argenson was still at the Convent with Mlle. Husson. As for me, my
dear Adolphe, during that time, I attended to my small affairs, and I
commanded without any trouble three thousand men. It was the month of
September, the nights were beautiful and clear, and we profited by this
to get into the house of the Spanish Ambassador, who lived in the old
hotel of the Marshal d’Aucre, in the Rue de Fournon, the same house
even which has since been occupied by the Guard de Paris. We entered
his wife’s bedroom and took possession of all her dresses, of a buckle
ornament with twenty-seven large diamonds, a necklace of very fine
pearls, six plates, six table sets, six knives and ten coral goblets.
We rolled it all up in a table cloth, and went to supper at the house
of the Belle Helene, who kept what you called the Inn of the Harp in the
Rue de la Harp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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