Eugéne Vidocq. Soldier, thief, spy, detective. A romance founded on facts

Front matter

EUGENE VIDOCQ. Uniform with this Volume A NEW SERIES OF BOOKS OF ADVENTURE. Each volume in crmvn 8z<__, handsome cloth gilt, gilt top, 3_\ 6__. With Illustrations by Stanley L. Wood, Hume Nisdet, Simon Harmon Vedder, and G. H. Edwards. Bv H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON. The Web of the Spider. The Times says : — " We are quite unable to give any idea of the thrilling events. . . . It is magnificent." By WILLIAM MITCHELL. The Temple of Death. The Scotsman says : — " Mr, Rider Haggard must look to his laurels, for Mr. Mitchell introduces us to mysteries, wonders, and horrors which the author of ' She ' could hardly surpass. There have been few better tales of the kind." By HUME NISBET. Valdmer the Viking. The Times says : — " A rattling narrative of adventure." By S. R. KEIGHTLEY, LL.D. The Crimson Sign.

The Times says : — " An exciting story told with great animation . . . reads like a bit of Alexandre Dumas ... an interesting and well written story." London: HUTCHINSON & CO., Paternoster Row. Then arose one mighty shout of " Stop him ! " Frontispiece. Pa~e 75. EUGENE VIDOCQ SOLDIER, THIEF, SPY, DETECTIVE Romance Jfmmbtb on Jf acts BY DICK DONOVAN AutJwr of 'found and fettered," "from clue to capture," "the man from MANCHESTER," "TRACKED TO DOOM," "a DETECTIVE'S TRIUMPHS," "WANTED," " LINK J3Y LINK," " WHO POISONED HETTY DUNCAN?" "THE MAN HUNTER," " IN THE GRIP OF THE LAW," " FROM "INFORMATION RECEIVED," *' DARK DEEDS," "SUSPICION AROUSED," &C, &C. LONDON HUTCHINSON & CO. 34, PATERNOSTER ROW CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. THE FATES VVEEE BUSY WEAVING STEANGE THBEADS INTO THE WAEP AND WOOF OF HIS LIFE . . . . .1 II.

THE SIGN OF THE EED HANDKEECHIEF . 9 III. THE VENOM OF AN ANGEY WOMAN . . 19 IV. THE IEON HAND .... 29 V. THE DEED OF THE NIGHT . . .39 VI. AN OILY EASCAL .... 48 VII. THE MAGISTEATE . . . .59 VIII. THE HUNTED MAN ... 68 IX. SPINNING THE WEB . . . .77 X. THE LAST ACT OF A TEAGEDY . 85 XI. " CIECE ! " . . . . .92 XII. HE FELL IN WITH THIEVES . . 101 XIII. IN THE LUEID GLAEE OF WAE . . 109 XIV. A LITTLE MYSTEEY . . . 119 XV. THE MYSTEEIOUS LADY . . . 127 XVI. IN THE SHADOW OF A WEONG . . 135 XVII. THE DUEL AND THE DEATH . . . 144 XVIII. THE FEAIL BEAUTY . . . 153 XIX. BY DEVIOUS WAYS .... 162 XX. HOW A PLOT WAS HATCHED, AND HOW IT ENDED 169 v vi CONTENTS. CHAP. PAOE XXI. AN ATTEMPT TO EEGAIN FEEEDOM AND A FAILUEE . • • • I?**-* XXII. A FEIEND IN NEED . . • • 185 XXIII. FOEMING NEW ACQUAINTANCES . . 194 XXIV.

Chapter I. The Fates Were Busy Weaving Steange Threads Into The Waep

AND WOOF OF HIS LIFE. Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The great bell of the cathedral of the French town of Arras slowly and sonorously tolled out the hour of midnight. The all but full moon, sailing through a sea of rent and picturesque clouds, conjured up strange and startling shadows one minute, to dispel them the next with a flood of silver sheen, that brought the old houses into bold and artistic relief, and played upon the window panes until they glistened like burnished steel. Tramp ! Tramp ! Tramp ! Almost before the vibrations of the last stroke of the bell had died down on the night wind that sighed and moaned eerily amongst the angles, nooks, and alleys of the irregularly built streets, the silence was once more broken by the measured tread of armed men. They were a band of gendarmes going their nightly rounds. 2 i "Halte la!" exclaimed the captain of the patrol, as they reached the opening of an alley leading down to a rookery in a low part of the town.

" If my eyes have not played me false, I saw a man slink away into the shadows there." " I saw him, too, captain," said one of the patrol. " And so did I," said another. " He is a night bird and on the look out for prey, or he would not be afraid of either the moonlight or the police," continued the captain. " Jacques and you, Henri, search the alley." In obedience to these orders, two men stepped out of the ranks, and entered the alley, while the rest stood at ease and the moonlight shone brilliantly on their accoutrements and their arms. The captain leisurely rolled a cigarette and smoked it, and the group, with the backing of quaint old houses, made a singularly effective picture that had a Rembrandt suggestiveness about it. But suddenly the picture was obliterated. A dense black cloud passed over the face of the moon, and her light was entirely veiled.

Taking advantage of the temporary eclipse, a figure that had been crouching down in an angle caused by a flight of steps that gave access to one of the old buildings at the corner of the alley, rose with out a sound, and sped away as silently as if it had been a spectre. Neither the captain nor his men saw this figure — which was that of a man. Presently Jacques and Henri reappeared from the alley, and saluted their officer. " We have seen nothing, not even a rat ; and heard nothing save the wind," said Jacques. The cloud passed from the face of the moon and all was light again. " Umph ! " growled the captain, "perhaps our eyes THE FATES WEEE BUSY WEAVING STRANGE THREADS. have played us false ; or else it was the devil we saw. Fall in. March!" The men obeyed the order, and soon the echoes of the street were repeating the rhythmical beat of the measured tramp ! tramp ! as the patrol moved off.

When they could be heard no more, the figure that had been hiding in the deep darkness of a receding doorway, returned. He was a mere youth, sixteen or seventeen at the most. Squarely built and powerful looking, and yet his move ments were as agile and noiseless as a cat's. His footfall made no sound, for he wore felt slippers. " Bah ! " he hissed, as he looked in the direction whence the gendarmes had gone. " How clever you think yourself, Monsieur le Capitaine ; but with all your cleverness I could shave your eyebrows off and you wouldn't know it." Having thus given vent to his disgust with and con tempt for the soldier-police, he whistled a soft, low, sibillant whistle, and mounted the steps leading to the door of the house at the corner of the alley. The door was then gently opened and a woman appeared.

She was young, but older than the youth. She had a dainty figure which was enveloped in a loose robe de chambre, while a mass of rich dark hair hung unfettered down her back. "They didn't see you, Eugene, did they ? " she asked, nervously, as she allowed the youth to embrace her. " See me, no,'' sneered Eugene. " They can see nothing unless -it is a haystack under their noses. But if they had seen me, what then? " " They would have made you give an account of your self, and you dare not have said you had come to make love to me, you know ! " answered the girl, with a little laugh. "That is right, ma belle Heloise," said Eugene as, throwing his arm around the girl's waist he drew her to him, and pressing his lips over and over again to hers, he murmured with that subdued intensity so peculiarly French, "je t'aime, je t'aimc, ma belle !"

" I believe you do love me, Eugene," said the girl, coquettishly, and turning upon him a pair of intensely black eyes that shone like living coals whenever the rays of the moon caught them. " But what's the use of our loving each other ? Your father and mother won't hear of it." She pouted her lips with a pretty expression of distress, and inclined her head towards him as if yearning for comfort. " What care I for that ! " exclaimed Eugene, with an angry snarl. "They will make you care, mon chcr, as they have done before," answered Heloise, pettishly. " If monsieur the captain of the gendarmes had discovered you just now he would have told your father that you were sneaking about here at midnight ; and then Monsieur Vidocq, the flourishing baker, would have sent you away as he has done before, because Monsieur Vidocq is very proud and thinks himself somebody, nest ce pas, mon cher .

" The tone of her voice and her ironical manner of speaking evinced a sense of strong irritation against the young man's father, and as this feeling got the better of her she drew herself free from her lover's embrace ; but with an impetuous sweep of his arms he clasped her again and said, with suppressed excitement — "Look here, Heloise, sooner than be parted from you I would kill even my father." The girl laughed with an indication of heartless in difference in her manner. " Pooh ! " she exclaimed, THE FATES WERE BUSY WEAVING STRANGE THREADS. "what would be the use of that? There would abso lutely be no chance then of my ever getting you, be cause they would cut your head off with the guillotine. How funny you would look without a head, to be sure ! " "Would they," he hissed, angrily, "they would have to capture me before they could do that ; and by St. Denis !

I think I could set them at defiance." " Perhaps," said Heloise, with ill-concealed sarcasm, and then added, by way of giving more point to the sarcasm, " and perhaps not. But look here, Eugene, mon cher, mon cher, what is the use of our splitting straws. You are the son of a rich baker ; I am the daughter of a poor tinker; and so your father won't recognise me. I have good looks, a good figure ; my mirror tells me so, my neighbours tell me so, and you tell me so ; my good looks are my fortune, and I cannot afford to squander it away. I must, therefore, seek to capture some one who has the means to keep me. You have not. How can we get married then? I am not going to wear rags and live on pot-au-feu all my life, and drink vin ordinaire." "Mon Dieu!" groaned Eugene, as he passed his hand over his forehead, " don't madden me.

I love you " "Yes, I believe you do, cheri, and I love you. But what of that ? Love won't keep us, and I tell you I don't intend to starve in a garret, my dear Eugene. Love is all very well, but money is better. No ; no starvation for me ; I like good wine and a good dinner, and plenty of pleasure. I am not going to sit in the cinders and starve." "Nor shall you," he answered, earnestly. "I will make a lady of you.'' " How? " she asked, with an incredulous laugh. " With money." " Where will you get it from ? " " Never mind that. I will get it. There's plenty of money in Arras, and some of it shall be mine." " Have a care, Eugene, have a care, or mayhap you will end your days at the hulks." " Well, look here," he said, with unmistakable decisive ness, " rather than lose you I would dare the hulks and the guillotine itself."

" Are you sure that it is not infatuation that is stirring you? " she asked. "Infatuation!" he cried; "Mon Dieu, Heloise, do you mock me, or are you trying to set my brain on fire ? " " Neither, cher petit," she answered, with provoking coolness, as she patted him on the head. " But you must be a sensible boy. If I were to marry you, I should want plenty to eat and drink, and good clothes to wear ; and on Sundays I should want to dine well, and have a bottle of good wine, and go to the theatre or the concert. I was not born to be melancholy. I intend to lead a jolly life, I tell you. Let there be no mistake about that." A sudden thoughtfulness seemed to fall upon Eugene, for he placed his hands over his eyes, and appeared to be immersed in deep reflection. Then, suddenly and abruptly, he spoke thus — " Heloise, would you marry me if I had money?

" " Of course I would, stupid ! " " And you won't marry me if I have no money? " " Certainly not, donkey," and she laughed subduedly ; for as the meeting was a clandestine one, she was afraid of raising her voice, lest she and her lover should be THE FATES WERE BUSY WEAVING STRANGE THREADS. 7 discovered. Then noting that he appeared to be much affected, she caressed him as she might have caressed a horse or a poodle, and said — "There, there, mon petit ! be a good fellow, and he shall have his reward." " When? " asked Eugene, with some warmth " When you have money, cheri," and again she patted his face. " But come, say good night, sweet one. The air is chill, and I feel sleepy." He seemed reluctant to go, and while he still stood in hesitancy, she suddenly kissed him, first on one cheek and then the other, and gathering up her skirts, disappeared quickly through the deeply embayed doorway.

Then the door closed gently, and Eugene Francois Vidocq stood alone in the shadows. He could not tear himself away easily. This woman of little heart, but subtle brain, had cast a spell upon him, and the Fates were busy weaving strange threads into the warp and woof of his life. Tramp, tramp, tramp ! He crouched further in the shadows, for the night watch were returning, and he saw them go by like mechanical figures in the moonlight, the captain halting for a brief space opposite the alley, and glancing into its dark depths, as if he expected to see the figure that had arrested his attention before. But there was nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard. Sleep held the town, and marauders and the foul things of the night slunk away into their holes and corners at the sounds of the approaching guard, whose sole object in patrolling the streets would seem to have been to give due warning to law-breakers to get out of the way.

Eugene Vidocq waited in his place of concealment until the tramp of the soldiers could be heard no more ; then he descended the steps, glanced up with a lover's wistfulness at a window from which a light streamed, and which he knew to be the window of his lady love's chamber, and, pondering on many things, he made his way to his home, to which he had to gain access by an acrobatic feat that placed his neck apparently in imminent peril, but he displayed no fear or nervousness. This feat consisted in swarming up the wooden pillar of a ve randah. Getting on to the roof of the verandah, which sloped at an acute angle, he had to make his way along the extreme edge like a cat till he reached a waterspout that was continued straight up the wall of the house to the roof. Scrambling upwards by means of this spout, with all the agility of a monkey, he gained the open window of the garret where he slept ; in another few minutes he had tumbled into his bed, and the adventures of the night were over. "But come, say good-night, sweet one." Page 7.

Chapter II. The Sign Of The Red Handkerchief

Eugene Feancois Vidocq was the only son of a baker who had been very successful in business and had made money. Monsieur Vidocq had tried to teach his son the baking business, but Eugene had views of his own, and the mysteries of the baker's art possessed no attraction for him. He and his father had had serious differences, and Eugene had over and over again been threatened with banishment from his native town. Young as he was his will was strong, and he gave evidence that he had not only the disposition, but a determination to carve out a path for himself ; but as he was quite unrestrained by any moral purpose, or regard for others, those who knew him best predicted that he was likely to go wrong. Indeed, although still so youthful, he had already been in trouble for an assault upon an old man who had offended him by calling him " a dissolute scamp."

For this little escapade he would most certainly have suffered imprison ment ; but his father, who was highly respected in the town, pleaded on his behalf, and Eugene was let off with a fine, which, of course, his father paid. Another cause of trouble between him and his family was his infatuation for Heloise Artois, the somewhat dissolute daughter of dissolute' parents. In the town of Arras the Artois family were regarded not only with suspicion, but positive dread by all well-ordered people. And Monsieur Vidocq had threatened his son with all sorts of pains and penalties if he insisted on continuing his intimacy with Heloise, of whom it had been some what epigrammatically said, she had the face of an angel and the heart of a devil. But Eugene had reached that unreflecting and difficult age to deal with, when youth may be said to be no longer youth, and yet it falls far short of manhood.

It may be described as the hobbledehoy stage, when the boy thinks he is a man, and men have a contempt for him. Argu ment, therefore, was lost upon him, and threats availed not, though he took the precaution of seeing his inamorata at night and clandestinely. And as her father had a strong dislike for young Vidocq, she had to resort to stratagem to obtain interviews with her lover. Heloise, although six or seven years older than Eugene, had a very ill-balanced mind. She had been brought up in ignorance, and without moral training, therefore she was not fitted to be the wife of any one, much less of a rash, impetuous, self-willed fellow like young Vidocq, who could not brook control, and ex pressed hatred for all constituted authority. Nature, however, had endowed her with a handsome face and comely person, and she was fully conscious of the power of these physical attributes to draw men to her.

It is very difficult to believe that such a woman was capable of pure love ; but Eugene had fascinated her a little, and knowing how severely the elder Vidocq's mother and father had spoken of her, she perhaps thought it would be in the nature of a triumph over them if she took their son away. On the third day following that clandestine midnight THE SIGN OF THE EED HANDKERCHIEF. meeting, when he was nearly falling into the hands of the patrol, Eugene sent his enchantress a note by means of a small boy upon whom he bestowed the guerdon of a franc for his service. During those three days he had pondered upon her words to the effect that if he had money she would marry him ; and, utterly blinded to everything else but her pretty face, he resolved to possess her, and his object in writing was to remind her of her promise and hold her to it.

"Ma Chirie," he wrote, "it is impossible for me to live without you. Now I am going to prove my devotion and ask you to prove yours. A week from to-day, at the hour of midnight, meet me at the first kilometre stone on the Paris road, where I will have a postchaise in readiness to convey us to Amiens. At Amiens you shall become my wife. And then a fig for every one. We will live a life of pleasure ; and rest assured, Mignon, there shall be no lack of money. Think over this, little one, and dream of the happiness in store ; but above everything, be cautious. I have reason to think we are watched. We must foil the watchers or they may frus trate our plans. My father and mother will leave no stone unturned to prevent my marrying thee, but not for twenty fathers and twenty mothers added will I be kept from thee.

And now you must give me a sign that you agree to the plan and will be at the rendezvous. To-morrow when the cathedral clock tolls noon I will pass your house, and if your answer is favourable let a red handkerchief be hanging from your window. That shall be a token that my happiness is secured. Adieu, adieu, ma chirie ! ma cherie ! and au revoir ! " Having despatched this letter he waited with all the feverish impatience of youth — and in his case the fever was a little stronger than usual — for the morrow that was to mar or make him according to his own view. And when the morrow came, and the great clock was proclaiming noon, he was passing the house where, for the time, his hopes were concentrated ; and there from the window hung the sign — a red handkerchief fluttered in the breeze. His heart fluttered, too, as he saw the sign, and he was so excited, that he ran full tilt against an old woman, nearly knocking her into the channel, and as he was passing on without so much as a "Pardon, Madame," — for his brain had room for no other thought but Heloise — the ancient dame recovered herself, went after him with astonishing agility — actuated by the belief that he had purposely assaulted her — and while she vituperated him in no measured language, she tried conclusions between her market umbrella and his head.

But still he heeded not, and the shrill laughter of the gamins who enjoyed the sight failed to arouse him. The sign of the red handkerchief had worked a subtle influence over him, that had much the same effect as a narcotic would have done, and he seemed to be in a dream state. On he hurried, leaving the virago in undisputed possession of the field, and all his thoughts were concentrated on the near future, in which he hoped to find the consummation of his happiness. Alas ! how many youths have dreamed the same dream, only to find that fruition proved the fair seeming fruit to be naught but bitter ashes. A week later was market day, and market day was ever a busy one in Arras. Country folk coming in from the surrounding villages to sell their produce, took back supplies of things with them, and the Arras tradesmen gleaned their harvest.

Now Eugene Vidocq, having selected this particular day as the day of his elopement with the fair but frail Heloise, showed that he possessed THE SIGN OF THE RED HANDKERCHIEF. some of the qualities of an organiser, if not of a general. Firstly, money was plentiful on that day, and, secondly, as many of the peasants remained at the cafes till a late hour, a chaise driving along the high road at night would not attract any particular attention. All these things had Eugene duly considered, and this fact served to prove that if he was impulsive and impetuous in the matter of love, he was cool and calculating in all else. At this juncture it is opportune to interpose a few brief remarks anent Eugene Vidocq's parents, not that they play any prominent part in the story of one of the most remarkable men who have ever written their names on the pages of history, beyond the fact that they were responsible for bringing him into the world.

Vidocq the elder was a native of Dauphine, where his people had for generations struggled to keep body and soul together. His parents, in order to woo Fortune to kindlier smiles, removed to Arras, and in due course apprenticed their son to the baking trade. In the fulness of time they — having carried out their mission in life — joined the great majority, and later on Vidocq married a countrywoman from the Medoc district. She had saved a little money, and with this they set up in business. Children were born to them, and Eugene was the last comer. The others were of a plodding, commonplace type, who took their position amongst the great flock of human sheep, and had nothing to distin guish them from the rest of the flock. But Eugene from an early age displayed qualities which marked him as an original.

As the last born he was perhaps spoilt to some extent by over indulgence. When he came into the world his parents were well-to-do, and he got more of the plums of life than his sisters and brothers had enjoyed in their early years. It soon became manifest, however, that he was not as they had been. From his tenderest years almost he manifested a marked dislike for a mere humdrum existence, and in consequence he became a source of anxiety to his parents. Well-meaning but officious people were in the habit of saying to his father — " Monsieur Vidocq, you must keep a tight hand over that boy or he will get into trouble." Others said he was eccentric, others again pronounced him a fool. Monsieur Vidocq did keep a tight hand, with the result that Eugene Vidocq chafed and grew restless. Like a high-spirited horse, he endeavoured to have his own way ; but, as is well known, the spirits and tempers of some horses can never be broken, and there are youths who will not brook the curb and the galling bit.

Eugene was one of these ; he was vicious and subtle, with a keen intelligence that might have been turned to good account. But his parents were not versed in the science of physiology or psychology. They had not the per ceptive penetration which would have enabled them to discern all those subtle properties of his brain which made him different to so many thousands of his fellows. Eugene Vidocq was erratic, wayward, self-willed ; with a disposition to revolt against all constituted authority. This is a type of mind that requires very delicate and skilful treatment in order that it may be moulded into goodly shape. But Monsieur Vidocq was not the man to do this. He was well meaning enough, and he bore the character of being an upright, conscientious and honest man ; but a certain obtuseness of intellect rendered him incapable of distinguishing the difference between wax and iron.

The appositeness of this illus- THE SIGN OF THE RED HANDKEECHIEF. tration will be admitted when it is added that as he would have beaten iron to weld it into shape, so would he have beaten wax, hoping thereby to obtain the same result. But the malleable process did not answer in Eugene's case, and he silently resented it — silently of necessity, for he was too young in years to raise the standard of revolt, and carve out a way for himself ; but the very subjection in which his passions were kept only served to intensify and strengthen them, even as the pent up fires of the volcano are intensified until their fury and strength become so great that in the end they rend and shatter everything. While yet a boy — he was barely turned twelve at the time — he made the acquaintance of Heloise Artois.

She entered his parents' service as a domestic servant, but did not give them entire satisfaction by any means. She was too flighty, too vain, too slovenly, too fond of dress to please such homely people. She had the mis fortune to be exceedingly good looking, and as a consequence lovers innumerable fawned upon her. She seemed to think that life ought to be a dream of love making, and for such a person domestic drudgery was not likely to have any attraction. She remained with the Vidocqs two years, then was summarily discharged for " irregular conduct." But during those two years the boy Eugene had come to look upon her with amorous eyes. This had not escaped his parents' observation, though at first they did not treat it seriously ; when they did do so it was too late. They thought then that the discharge of Heloise would be sufficient to cure the infatuation.

It was not ; the lad was still drawn to her. His father found it out, and threatened to take him up before a magistrate and have him sent to a reformatory as a refractory son. Under the then existing French law on the subject he had the power to do this. The threat frightened Eugene, though it developed his subtle propensities more strongly, and he resorted to all sorts of stratagems to continue his love-making. Heloise's father was a tinker by trade, and he enter tained a fierce dislike for Monsieur Vidocq because the latter had said some very harsh things about Heloise, so her father would not tolerate the love-making for a moment, and the young couple had to do it by stealth. It was very possible that underlying the girl's motive was a certain undefined desire of vengeance on Eugene's parents.