The Mysteries Of Paris Volume V Part 28

The Gros-Boiteux was instantly silent.

"I take the bargain off your hands; you will concede to me Germain's skin, and I'll flay him alive. I am not called the Skeleton for nothing.

I am dead-alive, my grave is dug, and I run no risk in working for the stone jug. The informers destroy us faster than the police; they put noses of La Force into La Roquette, and the noses of La Roquette in the Conciergerie, and they think themselves safe. Now, mind you, when each prison shall have killed its informer, no matter when he may have informed, that will take away the others' appet.i.te. I will set the example, and let others follow it."

All the prisoners, admiring the Skeleton's resolution, closed around him. Barbillon himself, instead of remaining near the door, joined the group, and did not perceive another prisoner, who had entered the room.

This individual, clothed in a gray blouse, and wearing a blue cotton cap with a red worsted border, pulled down over his eyes, started as he heard the name of Germain mentioned, and then, mingling with the Skeleton's admirers, gave out loud tones of approbation at the deadly determination of the _prevot_.

"What an out-and-outer the Skeleton is!" said one.

"The devil himself is a fool to him!"

"This here's what I call a man!"

"If all were like him, wouldn't the flats be afeard?"

"He'll do a real service to the stone jug, and when they see this, the noses will look blue."

"And no mistake!"

"And since the Skeleton is safe to suffer, why, it'll cost him nothing to put a nose out of joint!"

"Well, I think it's too bad," said Frank, "to kill the young chap."

"Why? Why?" exclaimed the Skeleton, in a savage tone; "no one has a right to protect a traitor."

"Yes, to be sure, he is a traitor,--so much the worse for him," said Frank, after a moment's reflection.

These latter words, and Gros-Boiteux's a.s.surance, put the doubts which the other prisoners had entertained against Frank to rest.

The Skeleton alone continued to mistrust him.

"And what are we to do with the turnkey? Tell us, Dead-Alive, for that is your name as well as the Skeleton," said Nicholas, with a grin.

"We must draw off his attention somehow."

"No; we'll hold him down by main force."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Silence in the stone jug!" said the Skeleton.

There was complete silence.

"Listen to me!" said the _prevot_, in his hoa.r.s.e voice. "There is no means of doing the thing so long as the turnkey remains in the day-room or the walking-yard. I have no knife, and there must be a few groans, for the sneak will struggle."

"Well, what then?"

"Why, this. Pique-Vinaigre has promised to tell us to-day after dinner his story of 'Gringalet and Cut-in-Half.' It rains, and we shall all come here, and the sneak will come and sit down there in the corner, as he always does. We'll give Pique-Vinaigre some sous that he may begin his tale. It will be dinner-time in the gaol; the turnkey will see us quietly employed in listening to the miraculous mystery of 'Gringalet and Cut-in-Half,' and will, suspecting no harm, make off to the tap. As soon as he has left the yard we shall have a quarter of an hour to ourselves, and the nose will be cold meat before the turnkey can return.

I will undertake it,--I who have done for stouter fellows in my day; and mind, I'll have no a.s.sistance!"

"Mind your eye!" cried Cardillac; "and what about the _huissier_ who will always come for a gossip amongst us at dinner-time? If he comes into the room to listen to Pique-Vinaigre, and sees Germain done for, he will cry out for help. He's not one of us, the _huissier_,--he's in a private cell, and we should mistrust him."

"Is there a _huissier_ here?" said Frank, the victim as we know of a breach of trust, by Maitre Boulard. "Is there a _huissier_ here?" he repeated, with astonishment, "and what is his name?"

"Boulard," replied Cardillac.

"The very man! The identical villain!" cried Frank, clenching his fists.

"It is he who has stolen my savings!"

"The _huissier_?" inquired the _prevot_.

"Yes, seven hundred francs of mine."

"You know him? And has he seen you?" inquired the Skeleton.

"I have seen him, worse luck! But for him I should not be here."

These regrets sounded ill in the Skeleton's ears, and he fixed his malignant eyes steadfastly on Frank, who replied to several of his comrade's questions. Then stooping towards the Gros-Boiteux, he said, in a low voice:

"This is a fresh 'un who might tell the turnkey."

"No, I'll answer for his not informing against any one; yet still he has his scruples about going the whole hog, and he might aid Germain in defending himself. It would be best to get him out of the yard."

"I'll do it," said the Skeleton; and then aloud he said, "I say, Frank, won't you pitch into this thief of a lawyer?"

"Won't I, that's all!"

"Well, he's coming, and so look out."

"I'm ready, and he shall bear my marks!"

"We shall have a row, and they will send the _huissier_ to his room and Frank to the black-hole," said the Skeleton, in an undertone, to the Gros-Boiteux; "we shall thus get rid of both."

"What a lucky pitch! Why, this Skeleton is a prime minister!" said the Boiteux, admiringly; and then he added, in a loud tone, "I say, shall we tell Pique-Vinaigre that we shall avail ourselves of his history to come over the turnkey and throttle the sneak?"

"By no means; Pique-Vinaigre is too soft and too cowardly. If he was up to the thing he wouldn't tell the story, but when the job is done and over he'll bear his share."

The dinner-bell sounded at this moment.

"To your puddings, dogs!" said the Skeleton; "Pique-Vinaigre and Germain will soon be in the yard. Now mind your eyes, my boys! They call me Dead-Alive, but the sneak is also dead-alive!"

CHAPTER X.

THE STORY-TELLER.