The Mysteries of Paris, illustrated with etchings, Vol. 5Sue, Eugène
General
The Mysteries of Paris, illustrated with etchings, Vol. 5
Sue, Eugène
Paris (France) -- Fiction
"Why, my girl, my follies were my father's fault, who dressed me up as a
clown to help in his mountebank displays, to swallow tow and spit fire,
which did not allow me spare time to form acquaintance with the sons of
the peers of France; and so I fell into bad company. But to return to
Beaugency. When once I had left Melun, like the rest, I thought I must
see some fun; if not, what was the use of my money? Well, I reached
Beaugency, with scarcely a sou in my pocket. I asked for Velu, the
friend of Gros-Boiteux, the head of the manufactory. Your servant! There
was no longer any white-lead factory; it had killed eleven persons in
the year, and the old convict had shut up shop. So here I was in the
middle of this city, with my talent for trumpet-making as my only means
of existence, and my discharge from prison as my only certificate of
recommendation. I did my best to procure work, but in vain. One called
me a thief, another a beggar, a third said I had escaped from gaol; all
turned their backs upon me. So I had nothing to do but die of hunger in
a city which I was not to leave for five years. Seeing this, I broke my
ban, and came to Paris to utilise my talents. As I had not the means to
travel in a coach and four, I came begging and tramping all the way,
avoiding the _gens-d'armes_ as I would a mad dog. I had luck, and
reached Auteuil without accident. I was very tired, hungry as a wolf,
and dressed, as you may see, not in the height of the fashion." And
Pique-Vinaigre glanced comically at his rags. "I had not a sou, and was
liable to be taken up as a vagabond. Well, _ma foi!_ an occasion
presented itself; the devil tempted me, and, in spite of my cowardice--"
"Enough, brother,--enough!" said his sister, fearing lest the turnkey
might hear his dangerous confession.
"Are you afraid they listen?" he said. "Be tranquil; I have nothing to
conceal. I was taken in the act."
"Alas!" said Jeanne, weeping bitterly; "how calmly you say this!"
"If I spoke warmly what should I gain by it? Come, listen to reason,
Jeanne. Must I have to console you?"
Jeanne wiped her eyes and sighed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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