assizes, trial, and death, — death without mercy or delay. For a
moment he convulsively pressed his head within his hands, and
during that brief period he became nearly mad with terror; but soon
a ray of hope glimmered in the multitude of thoughts which
bewildered his mind, and a faint smile played upon his white lips
and pallid cheeks. He looked around and saw the objects of his
search upon the chimney-piece; they were a pen, ink, and paper.
With forced composure he dipped the pen in the ink, and wrote the
following lines upon a sheet of paper: —
"I have no money to pay my bill, but I am not a dishonest man; I
leave behind me as a pledge this pin, worth ten times the amount. I
shall be excused for leaving at daybreak, for I was ashamed."
He then drew the pin from his cravat and placed it on the paper.
This done, instead of leaving the door fastened, he drew back the
bolts and even placed the door ajar, as though he had left the
room, forgetting to close it, and slipping into the chimney like a
man accustomed to that kind of gymnastic exercise, having effaced
the marks of his feet upon the floor, he commenced climbing the
only opening which afforded him the means of escape. At this
precise time, the first gendarme Andrea had noticed walked
up-stairs, preceded by the commissary of police, and supported by
the second gendarme who guarded the staircase and was himself
re-enforced by the one stationed at the door.
Andrea was indebted for this visit to the following
circumstances. At daybreak, the telegraphs were set at work in all
directions, and almost immediately the authorities in every
district had exerted their utmost endeavors to arrest the murderer
of Caderousse. Compiegne, that royal residence and fortified town,
is well furnished with authorities, gendarmes, and commissaries of
police; they therefore began operations as soon as the telegraphic
despatch arrived, and the Bell and Bottle being the best-known
hotel in the town, they had naturally directed their first
inquiries there.hotel in the town, they had naturally directed their first
inquiries there.
Now, besides the reports of the sentinels guarding the Hotel de
Ville, which is next door to the Bell and Bottle, it had been
stated by others that a number of travellers had arrived during the
night. The sentinel who was relieved at six o'clock in the morning,
remembered perfectly that just as he was taking his post a few
minutes past four a young man arrived on horseback, with a little
boy before him. The young man, having dismissed the boy and horse,
knocked at the door of the hotel, which was opened, and again
closed after his entrance. This late arrival had attracted much
suspicion, and the young man being no other than Andrea, the
commissary and gendarme, who was a brigadier, directed their steps
towards his room.
They found the door ajar. "Oh, ho," said the brigadier, who
thoroughly understood the trick; "a bad sign to find the door open!
I would rather find it triply bolted." And, indeed, the little note
and pin upon the table confirmed, or rather corroborated, the sad
truth. Andrea had fled. We say corroborated, because the brigadier
was too experienced to be convinced by a single proof. He glanced
around, looked in the bed, shook the curtains, opened the closets,
and finally stopped at the chimney. Andrea had taken the precaution
to leave no traces of his feet in the ashes, but still it was an
outlet, and in this light was not to be passed over without serious
investigation.
The brigadier sent for some sticks and straw, and having filled
the chimney with them, set a light to it. The fire crackled, and
the smoke ascended like the dull vapor from a volcano; but still no
prisoner fell down, as they expected. The fact was, that Andrea, at
war with society ever since his youth, was quite as deep as a
gendarme, even though he were advanced to the rank of brigadier,
and quite prepared for the fire, he had climbed out on the roof and
was crouching down against the chimney-pots. At one time he thoughtwas crouching down against the chimney-pots. At one time he thought
he was saved, for he heard the brigadier exclaim in a loud voice,
to the two gendarmes, "He is not here!" But venturing to peep, he
perceived that the latter, instead of retiring, as might have been
reasonably expected upon this announcement, were watching with
increased attention.
It was now his turn to look about him; the Hotel de Ville, a
massive sixteenth century building, was on his right; any one could
descend from the openings in the tower, and examine every corner of
the roof below, and Andrea expected momentarily to see the head of
a gendarme appear at one of these openings. If once discovered, he
knew he would be lost, for the roof afforded no chance of escape;
he therefore resolved to descend, not through the same chimney by
which he had come up, but by a similar one conducting to another
room. He looked around for a chimney from which no smoke issued,
and having reached it, he disappeared through the orifice without
being seen by any one. At the same minute, one of the little
windows of the Hotel de Ville was thrown open, and the head of a
gendarme appeared. For an instant it remained motionless as one of
the stone decorations of the building, then after a long sigh of
disappointment the head disappeared. The brigadier, calm and
dignified as the law he represented, passed through the crowd,
without answering the thousand questions addressed to him, and
re-entered the hotel.
"Well?" asked the two gendarmes.
"Well, my boys," said the brigadier, "the brigand must really
have escaped early this morning; but we will send to the
Villers-Coterets and Noyon roads, and search the forest, when we
shall catch him, no doubt." The honorable functionary had scarcely
expressed himself thus, in that intonation which is peculiar to
brigadiers of the gendarmerie, when a loud scream, accompanied by
the violent ringing of a bell, resounded through the court of the
hotel. "Ah, what is that?" cried the brigadier.