THEY wandered down to the lawns at the foot of the ramparts, and walking across the green grass, they stopped at the foot of a forked tree. They were seated chatting for some time, when suddenly ThÉophraste’s face seemed to light up as if he recalled something. It seemed as if his memory had suddenly become awakened to events of years ago. His whole soul was filled with sweet memories, like the tenderest recollections of youthful days returning, after having been forgotten for a long time. In his mind he saw perfectly the spirit of Cartouche, as if he had never been separated from him by two hundred years. It seemed to come suddenly to him, and as the events came back to him, he related them to Adolphe, in the following words:

“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.

“Oh, Adolphe, what a wonderful thing memory is! Truly I do not know why I said that you called it the Inn of the Harp, unless in my mind you are representing a friend whom I had, who was as good as you, and whom I loved as well as you, whose name was Va-de-Bon Cour. By the Thunder of the Breast, but he was a handsome young fellow! He was a sergeant of the French Guards, and he was my lieutenant. I must tell you, my dear Adolphe, that I commanded a considerable number of French Guardsmen. At the time of my arrest, one hundred and fifty non-commissioned officers, soldiers of the French Guard, hid themselves, and disappeared over to the colonies. They dreaded lest I should compromise them. They were wrong, however, for torture could not make me speak. However, let me leave those melancholy moments, and come back to the beautiful September nights. We will proceed to the time when it was customary for the Parisians to take up their new abodes. The Regent showed still more anger against me and M. d’Argenson, when he learned about the escapade against the Spanish Ambassador. Imagine his fury as I turned my attentions to him. Va-de-Bon Cour, being on guard at the Palais Royal, carried off two vermilion flambeaux, which the Duke of Orleans prized very highly. The Regent was so afraid of being robbed that instead of wearing silver-faced buckles and sword handles, he resolved to substitute carved steel. On the first day that he carried one of that kind, I, Cartouche, stole it from him as he was leaving the opera house. The next day I sent it back to him in pieces, and I taunted him about his apparent avarice, and upbraided him, that he, the greatest man in France, should wish to deprive his unfortunate confrÈres, the silversmiths, of a livelihood.

“He answered me publicly by proclaiming that he was very anxious to know me, and that he would give from his own pocket 20,000 pounds to whoever would bring Cartouche to him. The next day, as he walked to Saint Germain and was breakfasting in the castle, he found under his napkin a message of which you will readily see the sense: ‘My lord, you can see me for nothing. It may be to-night, at midnight, behind the Anne of Austria Wall in the forest, where Cartouche will expect you. You are brave. Come alone. If you come accompanied, you run the danger of death.’

“At midnight, I awaited the Regent; twelve o’clock was still sounding in the Loges, when the Regent appeared. The moonlight made the forest seem like fairyland-enchanted, such as one sees at the theater. The forest, a marvelous, transparent blue, seemed bereft of all its branches, of all its foliage, of all its thickets.

“‘Behold me, Cartouche,’ said the prince; ‘I come to you armed with my sword alone, as you have wished. I run perhaps the greatest danger,’ he said in a clear, derisive voice, ‘but who would not risk everything to see at close range at midnight, in the heart of the forest, the form of Cartouche, when it costs nothing?’ Oh, Adolphe, my friend, that thou couldst have been there to hear me respond to the Regent of France! To be sure, I am only the son of a poor cooper of the Rue du Pontaux-Choux, but what CondÉ, what Montmorency could have bowed with more grace, sweeping the wet grass with the plume of his hat? The Duke de Richelieu himself could not kneel more elegantly than I did, nor present in a more gracious manner to my lord the purse that I had taken from his pocket. ‘I am,’ said I, ‘the most humble servant of my lord, and I beg him to take back from Cartouche this purse that I had the audacity to steal with so much coolness, only to prove to my lord that his highness finds himself face to face with Cartouche.’ The Regent begged me to preserve that purse for a remembrance of him. He was wrong to relate, in the course of time, this anecdote; for the report was spread that he was one of my band. I believe that he had started to go away, when he put his arm in mine and dragged me as far to the right as we are sitting to-day.

“Then the regent did me the honor to put his arm in mine, and I saw that he had something of a secret nature to confide to me. He did not wait to acknowledge that he counted upon my ingenuity to avenge him for an offense that Monsieur the Controller-General had committed against him. He told me that he was quite in love with the courtesan, Emily; that she was his mistress, and had been for fifteen days, and that he had learned from La Fillon that M. Law had the promise of her favors the next night against the present that he would make her of a ten-thousand-louis necklace. He was sure of it, for La Fillon was never mistaken. Was it not from her that he had had a hint of the Cellamore conspiracy? All the rogues of Paris knew La Fillon.

“La Fillon is a woman of five feet ten inches, who was admirably formed, a ravishingly beautiful face. From the age of fifteen years, that model beauty thought that Nature had not provided such rare treasures to be hidden, so she lavished them. The Duke d’Orleans, a long time before the regency, loved her. He remained smitten with her for more than a year. It was for her that he had constructed, in a retired part of the gardens of Saint Germain, a sort of grotto, lighted mysteriously by several rays directed upon a bed of mats, upon which his mistress stretched herself, clothed in her blonde hair only. He showed them to all who passed that way, and in that way he made numerous friends. But the fifteen years of La Fillon flew away in happy days. Now she had no longer the enjoyment of intrigue, of which she has made two parts-gallantry and observation. So she furnished some important information to the police and to M. d’Argenson, guard of the seals, and some remarkable subjects for the amours of the Regent. It was she who procured Emily for him, who is by far the prettiest girl in Paris. Everybody wanted to steal her from him. Law, who was the richest, swore to succeed there. The bargain was concluded for the next night.

“‘Cartouche,’ the Regent said to me, after having explained his small affairs to me, ‘thou art a brave man. I give thee the necklace.’

“And he went away in the moonlight, giving me a slight wave of the hand. This kind of mission that I received-to thwart the loves of the Superintendent, and avenge those of the Duke of Orleans, filled me with pride.

“Being back in Paris, I learned near the morning, through my police (which was the best information of the epoch), that the courtesan Emily lived at a small hotel in the Mardis, at the corner of the Rue Barbette and of the Trois-Pavillons, and that the Regent showed more attachment for her than he had ever for the Duchess of Berry, with whom he was disgusted long since for La Baratere, who shut herself up in the Convent of Chelles, less on account of her love for God than for her liking for the beautiful nuns (what morals, my dear Adolphe, what morals!), and it consoled her that she had recently been mistaken for Mlle, de Valois, uniquely occupied with the Duke de Richelieu. This courtesan, Emily, was no more than an opera girl, but her beauty, as I have told you, surpassed all that one can imagine-I was not long in judging for myself.

“Twenty-four hours after the interview of Saint Germain, that is to say the midnight following, I went out with a placard describing exactly the angle of the Rue des Trois-Pavillons and the Rue Barbette. I had, as if by chance, a pistol in each hand, which made it impossible for me to decently bow to Mlle. Emily, who appeared, considering the hour, in the most polite dishabille, with the Superintendent, who presented a casket to her in which there shone the gems of a necklace, which was valued at the least at ten thousand louis. I excused myself for the necessity of keeping my hat on my head, and begged Monsieur, the Superintendent, seeing the encumbrance of my hands, to close the casket on the necklace, and to put the whole thing in the pocket of my cinnamon coat, promising my gratitude or recognition for this slight service.

“As he hesitated, I proceeded with my presentation, and when he knew that my name was Cartouche, he obeyed with alacrity.

“I begged Mlle. Emily to reassure herself, declaring that she was in no danger, of which she was convinced, for she began to laugh heartily at the discomfiture of M. Law. I laughed also. I said to M. Law that his necklace was worth 10,000 louis, but if he wished to send the next day, towards five o’clock in the afternoon, a confidence man to the corner of the Rue Vaugirard and of the Rue des Fosses-Monsieur le Prince, with five thousand louis, they would return the collar, on the word of honor of Cartouche. He replied to me that the bargain was concluded and we took leave of each other.

“Two days later some one related the adventure to the Regent, who was at first overjoyed, but whose face changed when he learned the culmination of the event. The man, Law, had given the five thousand louis as was arranged, to the man, Cartouche, and he expected the jewel box, when the other told him that Cartouche had already gone to carry it himself to Mlle. Emily. Law ran to the house of the courtesan, saw the necklace and demanded the price.

“‘It is already received,’ replied Emily, turning her back on him.

“‘And by whom?’ exclaimed M” le Superintendent.

“‘Evidently by the one who brought me the necklace-by Cartouche, who has just left here. Should I not pay upon receipt of the necklace? And immediately? I have no credit, myself,’ added she, shouting over the discomfited face of the man of the Rue Quincamprix.

“At the Palais Royal, my dear Adolphe, the jest had the success that you can imagine. It did not matter, the Regent had found out that I had surpassed his instructions, and in his anger he again sent M. d’Argenson to hunt for me. He, however, was again diverted by the attractions of Mlle. Husson. It was a fact, my dear Adolphe, that women were a source of great help to me, and I leaned towards them considerably. But they contributed much to my ruin, also. Knowing of the propriety of my manners, and of my exclusive love for Marceline, you must think how two hundred years changes a man.”

Elated at his narrative, Adolphe laughed at the pleasantry which terminated it. “How two hundred years changes a man!” M. Longuet laughed at it. The supernatural and terrifying antithesis between Cartouche and Longuet, which had plunged him at first into the most melancholy fright, now incited him to make jests. His excuse was that he did not see anything to fear. He only found his case a little odd. He joked about it with Adolphe, and even resolved to no longer keep his true personality from Marceline. She was intelligent and would understand. He imagined that this personality would present dangers to himself and to society, but, behold! it existed no longer in the real condition, but only in his memory, as a vivid picture. He would not have to control Cartouche as he had dreaded; he would only have to ask him from time to time, some anecdote, which would help M. Longuet in conversation. The history of the Regent, M. Law, and of the courtesan, were sure proofs of that condition of the soul. How it had glided from his memory without effort! What evil, then, was there in that? After all, if he had been Cartouche, it was not his fault, and it would be very foolish in him to be angry about it. He even joked about the fortune.

At midnight they made their way back to Paris. As they arrived at the station St. Lazare, M. Lecamus asked him the following question:

“My friend, when you are Cartouche, and you take your walks in Paris, and you see the life of Paris, what astonishes you most? Is it the telephone, or the railway, or the Metro, or the Eiffel Tower?”

ThÉophraste replied, “No, no. That which astonishes me most when I am Cartouche is the police force.”