AND NOW let us leave Mademoiselle Danglars and her friend pursuing their way to Brussels, and return to poor Andrea Cavalcanti, so inopportunely interrupted in his rise to fortune. Notwithstanding his youth, Master Andrea was a very skilful and intelligent boy. We have seen that on the first rumor which reached the salon he had gradually approached the door, and crossing two or three rooms at last disappeared. But we have forgotten to mention one circumstance, which nevertheless ought not to be omitted; in one of the rooms he crossed, the trousseau of the bride-elect was on exhibition. There were caskets of diamonds, cashmere shawls, Valenciennes lace, English veilings, and in fact all the tempting things, the bare mention of which makes the hearts of young girls bound with joy, and which is called the corbeille. Now, in passing through this room, Andrea proved himself not only to be clever and intelligent, but also provident, for he helped himself to the most valuable of the ornaments before him.
Furnished with this plunder, Andrea leaped with a lighter heart from the window, intending to slip through the hands of the gendarmes. Tall and well proportioned as an ancient gladiator, and muscular as a Spartan, he walked for a quarter of an hour without knowing where to direct his steps, actuated by the sole idea of getting away from the spot where if he lingered he knew that he would surely be taken. Having passed through the Rue Mont Blanc, guided by the instinct which leads thieves always to take the safest path, he found himself at the end of the Rue Lafayette. There he stopped, breathless and panting. He was quite alone; on one side was the vast wilderness of the Saint-Lazare, on the other, Paris enshrouded in darkness.
"Am I to be captured?" he cried; "no, not if I can use more activity than my enemies. My safety is now a mere question of speed."
At this moment he saw a cab at the top of the Faubourg Poissonniere. The dull driver, smoking his pipe, was plodding along toward the limits of the Faubourg Saint-Denis, where no doubt he ordinarily had his station. "Ho, friend！" said Benedetto.
"What do you want, sir?" asked the driver.
"Is your horse tired?"
"Tired? oh, yes, tired enough--he has done nothing the whole of this blessed day！ Four wretched fares, and twenty sous over, making in all seven francs, are all that I have earned, and I ought to take ten to the owner."
"Will you add these twenty francs to the seven you have?"
"With pleasure, sir; twenty francs are not to be despised. Tell me what I am to do for this."
"A very easy thing, if your horse isn't tired."
"I tell you he'll go like the wind,--only tell me which way to drive."
"Towards the Louvres."
"Ah, I know the way--you get good sweetened rum over there."
"Exactly so; I merely wish to overtake one of my friends, with whom I am going to hunt to-morrow at Chapelle-en-Serval. He should have waited for me here with a cabriolet till half-past eleven; it is twelve, and, tired of waiting, he must have gone on."
"It is likely."
"Well, will you try and overtake him?"
"Nothing I should like better."
"If you do not overtake him before we reach Bourget you shall have twenty francs; if not before Louvres, thirty."
"And if we do overtake him?"
"Forty," said Andrea, after a moment's hesitation, at the end of which he remembered that he might safely promise. "That's all right," said the man; "hop in, and we're off！ Who-o-o-p, la！"
Andrea got into the cab, which passed rapidly through the Faubourg Saint-Denis, along the Faubourg Saint-Martin, crossed the barrier, and threaded its way through the interminable Villette. They never overtook the chimerical friend, yet Andrea frequently inquired of people on foot whom he passed and at the inns which were not yet closed, for a green cabriolet and bay horse; and as there are a great many cabriolets to be seen on the road to the Low Countries, and as nine-tenths of them are green, the inquiries increased at every step. Every one had just seen it pass; it was only five hundred, two hundred, one hundred steps in advance; at length they reached it, but it was not the friend. Once the cab was also passed by a calash rapidly whirled along by two post-horses. "Ah," said Cavalcanti to himself, "if I only had that britzska, those two good post-horses, and above all the passport that carries them on！" And he sighed deeply. The calash contained Mademoiselle Danglars and Mademoiselle d'Armilly. "Hurry, hurry！" said Andrea, "we must overtake him soon." And the poor horse resumed the desperate gallop it had kept up since leaving the barrier, and arrived steaming at Louvres.
"Certainly," said Andrea, "I shall not overtake my friend, but I shall kill your horse, therefore I had better stop. Here are thirty francs; I will sleep at the Red Horse, and will secure a place in the first coach. Good-night, friend." And Andrea, after placing six pieces of five francs each in the man's hand, leaped lightly on to the pathway. The cabman joyfully pocketed the sum, and turned back on his road to Paris. Andrea pretended to go towards the Red Horse inn, but after leaning an instant against the door, and hearing the last sound of the cab, which was disappearing from view, he went on his road, and with a lusty stride soon traversed the space of two leagues. Then he rested; he must be near Chapelle-en-Serval, where he pretended to be going. It was not fatigue that stayed Andrea here; it was that he might form some resolution, adopt some plan. It would be impossible to make use of a diligence, equally so to engage post-horses; to travel either way a passport was necessary. It was still more impossible to remain in the department of the Oise, one of the most open and strictly guarded in France; this was quite out of the question, especially to a man like Andrea, perfectly conversant with criminal matters.
He sat down by the side of the moat, buried his face in his hands and reflected. Ten minutes after he raised his head; his resolution was made. He threw some dust over the topcoat, which he had found time to unhook from the ante-chamber and button over his ball costume, and going to Chapelle-en-Serval he knocked loudly at the door of the only inn in the place. The host opened. "My friend," said Andrea, "I was coming from Montefontaine to Senlis, when my horse, which is a troublesome creature, stumbled and threw me. I must reach Compiègne to-night, or I shall cause deep anxiety to my family. Could you let me hire a horse of you?"
An inn-keeper has always a horse to let, whether it be good or bad. The host called the stable-boy, and ordered him to saddle "Whitey," then he awoke his son, a child of seven years, whom he ordered to ride before the gentleman and bring back the horse. Andrea gave the inn-keeper twenty francs, and in taking them from his pocket dropped a visiting card. This belonged to one of his friends at the Café de Paris, so that the innkeeper, picking it up after Andrea had left, was convinced that he had let his horse to the Count of Mauléon, 25 Rue Saint-Dominique, that being the name and address on the card. "Whitey" was not a fast animal, but he kept up an easy, steady pace; in three hours and a half Andrea had traversed the nine leagues which separated him from Compiègne, and four o'clock struck as he reached the place where the coaches stop. There is an excellent tavern at Compiègne, well remembered by those who have ever been there. Andrea, who had often stayed there in his rides about Paris, recollected the Bell and Bottle inn; he turned around, saw the sign by the light of a reflected lamp, and having dismissed the child, giving him all the small coin he had about him, he began knocking at the door, very reasonably concluding that having now three or four hours before him he had best fortify himself against the fatigues of the morrow by a sound sleep and a good supper. A waiter opened the door.
"My friend," said Andrea, "I have been dining at Saint-Jean-au-Bois, and expected to catch the coach which passes by at midnight, but like a fool I have lost my way, and have been walking for the last four hours in the forest. Show me into one of those pretty little rooms which overlook the court, and bring me a cold fowl and a bottle of Bordeaux." The waiter had no suspicions; Andrea spoke with perfect composure, he had a cigar in his mouth, and his hands in the pocket of his top coat; his clothes were fashionably made, his chin smooth, his boots irreproachable; he looked merely as if he had stayed out very late, that was all. While the waiter was preparing his room, the hostess arose; Andrea assumed his most charming smile, and asked if he could have No. 3, which he had occupied on his last stay at Compiègne. Unfortunately, No. 3 was engaged by a young man who was travelling with his sister. Andrea appeared in despair, but consoled himself when the hostess assured him that No. 7, prepared for him, was situated precisely the same as No. 3, and while warming his feet and chatting about the last races at Chantilly, he waited until they announced his room to be ready.
Andrea had not spoken without cause of the pretty rooms looking out upon the court of the Bell Tavern, which with its triple galleries like those of a theatre, with the jessamine and clematis twining round the light columns, forms one of the prettiest entrances to an inn that you can imagine. The fowl was tender, the wine old, the fire clear and sparkling, and Andrea was surprised to find himself eating with as good an appetite as though nothing had happened. Then be went to bed and almost immediately fell into that deep sleep which is sure to visit men of twenty years of age, even when they are torn with remorse. Now, here we are obliged to own that Andrea ought to have felt remorse, but that he did not. This was the plan which had appealed to him to afford the best chance of his security. Before daybreak he would awake, leave the inn after rigorously paying his bill, and reaching the forest, he would, under presence of making studies in painting, test the hospitality of some peasants, procure himself the dress of a woodcutter and a hatchet, casting off the lion's skin to assume that of the woodman; then, with his hands covered with dirt, his hair darkened by means of a leaden comb, his complexion embrowned with a preparation for which one of his old comrades had given him the recipe, he intended, by following the wooded districts, to reach the nearest frontier, walking by night and sleeping in the day in the forests and quarries, and only entering inhabited regions to buy a loaf from time to time.
Once past the frontier, Andrea proposed making money of his diamonds; and by uniting the proceeds to ten bank-notes he always carried about with him in case of accident, he would then find himself possessor of about 50,000 livres, which he philosophically considered as no very deplorable condition after all. Moreover, he reckoned much on the interest of the Danglars to hush up the rumor of their own misadventures. These were the reasons which, added to the fatigue, caused Andrea to sleep so soundly. In order that he might awaken early he did not close the shutters, but contented himself with bolting the door and placing on the table an unclasped and long-pointed knife, whose temper he well knew, and which was never absent from him. About seven in the morning Andrea was awakened by a ray of sunlight, which played, warm and brilliant, upon his face. In all well-organized brains, the predominating idea--and there always is one--is sure to be the last thought before sleeping, and the first upon waking in the morning. Andrea had scarcely opened his eyes when his predominating idea presented itself, and whispered in his ear that he had slept too long. He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. A gendarme was crossing the court. A gendarme is one of the most striking objects in the world, even to a man void of uneasiness; but for one who has a timid conscience, and with good cause too, the yellow, blue, and white uniform is really very alarming.
"Why is that gendarme there?" asked Andrea of himself. Then, all at once, he replied, with that logic which the reader has, doubtless, remarked in him, "There is nothing astonishing in seeing a gendarme at an inn; instead of being astonished, let me dress myself." And the youth dressed himself with a facility his valet de chambre had failed to rob him of during the two months of fashionable life he had led in Paris. "Now then," said Andrea, while dressing himself, "I'll wait till he leaves, and then I'll slip away." And, saying this, Andrea, who had now put on his boots and cravat, stole gently to the window, and a second time lifted up the muslin curtain. Not only was the first gendarme still there, but the young man now perceived a second yellow, blue, and white uniform at the foot of the staircase, the only one by which he could descend, while a third, on horseback, holding a musket in his fist, was posted as a sentinel at the great street door which alone afforded the means of egress.
The appearance of the third gendarme settled the matter, for a crowd of curious loungers was extended before him, effectually blocking the entrance to the hotel. "They're after me！" was Andrea's first thought. "Diable！"
A pallor overspread the young man's forehead, and he looked around him with anxiety. His room, like all those on the same floor, had but one outlet to the gallery in the sight of everybody. "I am lost！" was his second thought; and, indeed, for a man in Andrea's situation, an arrest meant the 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. Compiègne, 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.
Now, besides the reports of the sentinels guarding the H?tel 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 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 H?tel 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 H?tel 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.
"Some traveller seems impatient," said the host. "What number was it that rang?"
"Number 3."
"Run, waiter！" At this moment the screams and ringing were redoubled. "Ah," said the brigadier, stopping the servant, "the person who is ringing appears to want something more than a waiter; we will attend upon him with a gendarme. Who occupies Number 3?"
"The little fellow who arrived last night in a post-chaise with his sister, and who asked for an apartment with two beds." The bell here rang for the third time, with another shriek of anguish.
"Follow me, Mr. Commissary！" said the brigadier; "tread in my steps."
"Wait an instant," said the host; "Number 3 has two staircases,--inside and outside."
"Good," said the brigadier. "I will take charge of the inside one. Are the carbines loaded?"
"Yes, brigadier."
"Well, you guard the exterior, and if he attempts to fly, fire upon him; he must be a great criminal, from what the telegraph says."
The brigadier, followed by the commissary, disappeared by the inside staircase, accompanied by the noise which his assertions respecting Andrea had excited in the crowd. This is what had happened. Andrea had very cleverly managed to descend two-thirds of the chimney, but then his foot slipped, and notwithstanding his endeavors, he came into the room with more speed and noise than he intended. It would have signified little had the room been empty, but unfortunately it was occupied. Two ladies, sleeping in one bed, were awakened by the noise, and fixing their eyes upon the spot whence the sound proceeded, they saw a man. One of these ladies, the fair one, uttered those terrible shrieks which resounded through the house, while the other, rushing to the bell-rope, rang with all her strength. Andrea, as we can see, was surrounded by misfortune.
"For pity's sake," he cried, pale and bewildered, without seeing whom he was addressing,--"for pity's sake do not call assistance！ Save me！--I will not harm you."
"Andrea, the murderer！" cried one of the ladies.
"Eugénie！ Mademoiselle Danglars！" exclaimed Andrea, stupefied.
"Help, help！" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, taking the bell from her companion's hand, and ringing it yet more violently. "Save me, I am pursued！" said Andrea, clasping his hands. "For pity, for mercy's sake do not deliver me up！"
"It is too late, they are coming," said Eugénie.
"Well, conceal me somewhere; you can say you were needlessly alarmed; you can turn their suspicions and save my life！"
The two ladies, pressing closely to one another, and drawing the bedclothes tightly around them, remained silent to this supplicating voice, repugnance and fear taking possession of their minds.
"Well, be it so," at length said Eugénie; "return by the same road you came, and we will say nothing about you, unhappy wretch."
"Here he is, here he is！" cried a voice from the landing; "here he is！ I see him！" The brigadier had put his eye to the keyhole, and had discovered Andrea in a posture of entreaty. A violent blow from the butt end of the musket burst open the lock, two more forced out the bolts, and the broken door fell in. Andrea ran to the other door, leading to the gallery, ready to rush out; but he was stopped short, and he stood with his body a little thrown back, pale, and with the useless knife in his clinched hand.
"Fly, then！" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whose pity returned as her fears diminished; "fly！"
"Or kill yourself！" said Eugénie （in a tone which a Vestal in the amphitheatre would have used, when urging the victorious gladiator to finish his vanquished adversary）。 Andrea shuddered, and looked on the young girl with an expression which proved how little he understood such ferocious honor. "Kill myself?" he cried, throwing down his knife; "why should I do so?"
"Why, you said," answered Mademoiselle Danglars, "that you would be condemned to die like the worst criminals."
"Bah," said Cavalcanti, crossing his arms, "one has friends."
The brigadier advanced to him, sword in hand. "Come, come," said Andrea, "sheathe your sword, my fine fellow; there is no occasion to make such a fuss, since I give myself up;" and he held out his hands to be manacled. The girls looked with horror upon this shameful metamorphosis, the man of the world shaking off his covering and appearing as a galley-slave. Andrea turned towards them, and with an impertinent smile asked,--"Have you any message for your father, Mademoiselle Danglars, for in all probability I shall return to Paris?"
Eugénie covered her face with her hands. "Oh, ho！" said Andrea, "you need not be ashamed, even though you did post after me. Was I not nearly your husband?"
And with this raillery Andrea went out, leaving the two girls a prey to their own feelings of shame, and to the comments of the crowd. An hour after they stepped into their calash, both dressed in feminine attire. The gate of the hotel had been closed to screen them from sight, but they were forced, when the door was open, to pass through a throng of curious glances and whispering voices. Eugénie closed her eyes; but though she could not see, she could hear, and the sneers of the crowd reached her in the carriage. "Oh, why is not the world a wilderness?" she exclaimed, throwing herself into the arms of Mademoiselle d'Armilly, her eyes sparkling with the same kind of rage which made Nero wish that the Roman world had but one neck, that he might sever it at a single blow. The next day they stopped at the H?tel de Flandre, at Brussels. The same evening Andrea was incarcerated in the concièrgerie.
现在我们暂且不谈腾格拉尔小姐和她的朋友如何驱车奔赴布鲁塞尔，回过头来叙述那在飞黄腾达途中意想不到地遭受了严重打击的可怜的安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂。安德烈先生虽然年轻，但却是一个非常机智聪明的青年。我们上文提到：他一听风声不妙，就渐渐挨向门口，穿过两三个房间，溜之大吉了。但我们已经记忆提到一件事情，而那件事情是决不应该漏掉的；就是：在他所穿过的一个房间里，放着那位未来新娘的嫁妆，——包括一盒盒的钻石、克什米尔羊毛披巾、威尼斯花边、英国面纱，还有其他提到它们的名字就会使青年姑娘们的满心欢喜地狂跳起来的诱人的东西。在经过这个房间的时候，安德烈不但证明他自己机智聪明，而且也证明了他的深谋远虑，因为他不客气地偷了一些最贵重的首饰。得到了这一些俘获品以后，安德烈便怀着一颗较轻松的心跳出窗口，准备溜出宪兵之手。高大得象一个古代的武士，强健得象一个斯巴达人的他，无头无绪地在街上走了一刻钟，心里只有一个念头，就是要赶快离开他知道一定会遭逮捕的那个地方。穿过蒙勃兰克路以后，凭着每个窃贼避开城栅的本能，他发觉自己已到了拉法叶特路的尽头，他在那儿上气不接下气地停下来。这个地方很寂静。一边是那空旷的圣·拉柴荒原，另一边，是那黑沉沉的巴黎。“我完蛋了吗？”他喊道，“不，假如我能比我的敌人跑得更快就能得救，我就不会完。我的安全现在只是一个速度快慢问题而已。“这个时候，他看见有一辆单人马车停在波尼丽街口。车夫懒洋洋地吸着烟，似乎想把车子驶回到对面的圣·但尼街口去，他显然是经常停在那儿的。
“喂，朋友！”贝尼代托说。
“怎么样，先生？”那车夫问。
“你的马跑累了吗？”
“跑累了？噢，是的，够疲倦的啦！今天这个好日子——
一点好买卖都不曾做过！四个倒霉的乘客，二十几个铜板，合起来一共只有七个法郎，这就是今天的全部收入，而我却得付给车行老板十个法郎。”
“你可愿意再加上二十个法郎？在你已经有的七个法郎上面吗？”
“那当然好，先生，二十个法郎可不是个小数目呀。告诉我怎样才能得到它。”
“假如你的马不疲劳，那是一件非常容易做到的事情。”
“我告诉你，它跑起来象一阵风，只要你告诉我到哪儿去就得啦。”
“去罗浮。”
“啊，我知道的！那出苦杏仁酒的地方。”
“一点不错，我只希望追上我的一个朋友，我跟他说好明天一同到塞凡尔镇去打猎。我们约定他的一辆轻便马车在这儿等到我十一点半。现在十二点了，他一定是等得不耐烦，先走了。”
“大概是的。”
“噢，你愿意帮助我追上他吗？”
“那是我最乐意的事啦。”
“要是在我们到达布尔歇的时候你还不曾追上他，我给你二十法郎，假如到罗浮还追不上，就付给三十。”
“而假如我们追上了他呢？”
“四十。”安德烈犹豫了一会儿，但随即想起不应该这样许诺。
“那好吧！”那个人说，“进来吧，我们走。”
安德烈坐进单人马车，车子便急速地走过圣·但尼街，顺着圣·马丁街越过城栅，进入了那无穷尽的旷野。他们一直不曾追上那位幻想中的朋友，可是安德烈常常向路上的行人和尚未关门的小客栈，打听是否有一辆由栗色马所拖的绿色轻便马车经过；因为到倍斯湾去的路上有许多轻便马车，而十分之九的轻便马车又是绿色的，所以他随时都可以打听到消息。每一个人都刚看见那样的一辆马车驶过去；就在前面五百步，二百步，一百步；最后他们终于追上它了，但不是他的那位朋友的。有一次，单人马车越过一辆由两匹马拉着正在疾驰的四轮马车。“啊！”卡瓦尔康蒂心里对他自己说，“要是我有了那辆四轮马车，那两匹善奔跑的快马，尤其是，那辆马车上的人所带的护照，那就太好啦！”于是他深深地叹了一口气。那辆双人马车里载着腾格拉尔小姐和亚密莱小姐。
“快！快！”安德烈说，“我们不久一定能赶上他了。”于是那匹自离开城门以来不曾减缓速度的可怜的马，就继续拚命地往前奔跑，上气不接下气地跑到罗浮。
“当然罗，”安德烈说，“我是追不上我的朋友了，但这样会把你的马累死的，所以我们还是停下来吧。这是三十法郎，我到红马旅馆去住夜，明天再搭便车前去。晚安，朋友。”
于是安德烈把六枚五法郎的银币放到那个人的手里，轻快地跳到路上。那车夫欢天喜地拿了那笔钱，往回走去。安德烈假装向红马旅馆走去；但他只在旅馆门外站了一会儿，等到车轮的声音渐渐走远了，马车的影子渐渐消失的时候，他便立刻上路，急匆匆的步行了六里路程。他休息了一会儿；这就是他说过要去的塞凡尔镇附近了。安德烈这次的休息并不是因为疲倦，而是要仔细想一想，采取一个计划做一个规定。
他不能利用马车，乘马车或租马必须要有护照。他也不能留在瓦兹区，这是法国藏身最困难和防卫最严密的省份之一，象安德烈这样的一位犯罪专家，知道要在这一带隐匿起来是非常困难的。他在一座土墙旁边坐下来，把他的脸埋在双手里深深地思考了一会。十分钟以后，他抬起头来；他已经做出了决定了。他从地下抓起一把碎土，抹在他当时从候见室里取下来穿在晚礼服外的那件外套上，走进塞凡尔镇，用力拍打镇上那间唯一的小客栈的门。“我的朋友，”安德烈说，“我从蒙芳丹来，到森里斯去，我那匹可悲的马折断了腿，摔了我一跤。我必须在今夜到达贡比涅，不然就会使我家里人非常担心。你能租一匹马给我吗？”
一个客栈老板总是有一匹马出租的，但是马的好坏就不敢说了。塞凡尔镇的那位老板赶快把那管马厩的小伙计来，吩咐给他把那匹“追风马”加鞍子；然后他喊醒他那七岁的儿子，吩咐他与这位先生合骑那匹马，到了目的地把马骑回来。
安德烈给那个客栈老板十法郎，当他从口袋里掏钱的时候，他丢下了一张名片。那张名片是他在巴黎咖啡馆认识的一位朋友的，所以安德烈离开以后，客栈老板拾起名片一看，便认为他把他的马租给了家住圣·多米尼克街二十五号的马伦伯爵，因为名片上印着这个名字和地址。追风马并不是一匹跑得很快的马，但它却走得很均匀而不停歇；三个半钟头以后，安德烈走完了到贡比涅的二十七哩路，四点钟的时候，他已经到了公共驿车的终点。贡比涅有一家很豪华的旅馆，凡是曾经到过那儿的人大概都记得很清楚。安德烈从巴黎骑马出游的时候常常在那儿停留，当然记得钟瓶旅馆。他一转身，在路灯的光线，看见了那家旅馆的招牌，便掏出他身边所有的零钱，打发走了那个孩子，然后开始去敲门。他想得很仔细：现在还有三四个钟头的时间，最好是能有一次甜蜜的睡眠和一顿丰盛的晚餐来消除自己的疲劳。一个侍者出来开门。
“我的朋友，”安德烈说，“我在圣·波耳斯用了晚餐，希望搭一辆午夜经过的便车，结果象一个傻瓜似地迷了路，在森林里走了四个钟头。给我弄一间面朝院子的精致的小房间，给我送一只冻鸡和一瓶波尔多酒来。”
侍者毫不疑心，安德烈说话的神情从容自若，他的嘴里含着一支雪茄，双手插在套袋里，衣服高雅，下巴光滑，皮靴雪亮，他看来只是一个在外面呆得非常晚的人而已。当侍者为他收拾房间的时候，旅馆老板娘起来了，安德烈拿出他最可爱的微笑，问他是否能住在第三号房间，因为他上次来贡比涅也是住在那个房间里。不巧的是，第三号房间已有一个青年男客和他的妹妹住上了。安德烈很失望的样子，但旅馆老板娘向他保证，现在为他准备的那个第七号房间，里面布置与第三号房间一样，他就又高兴起来了，便一面在壁炉旁边烤暖他的脚，一面与老板娘闲聊尚蒂伊最近赛马的情况，一直等到侍者来告诉他们房间准备就绪。
安德烈称赞钟瓶旅馆那些向院子的房间漂亮，不是没有原因的，原来钟瓶旅馆的门口象歌剧院一样，有三重门廊，两旁的廊柱上缠着一些素馨花和铁线莲，看上去是一个最美丽的进口。鸡非常新鲜，酒是陈年老酿，壁炉的火熊熊燃烧，安德烈惊奇地发觉他自己的胃口竟然象未遇意外事故时同样好。吃完后他就上床，而且立刻就进入了梦乡，这本来是二十岁左右的青年的情形，即使他们在满心悔恨的时候也是这样。我们本来认为安德烈应该感到悔恨，但他却不这样认为。
他已经有了一个非常安全的计划：他在天亮以前醒来，很快地付清了账单，离开旅馆，进入森林，然后，借口要画画，他花钱受到一个农民的友好接待，给自己弄到一套伐木者的衣服，一把斧头，脱掉身上的狮子皮，打扮成伐木者的装束；然后，他用泥土涂满双手，用一把铅梳弄脏他的头发，用他的一个老同行传授他的方法把他的皮肤染成褐色，白天睡觉，晚上行路，只在必要的时候才到有人的地方去买一块面包吃，在森林里穿来穿去，一直到达最近的边境。一旦越过了国界，安德烈便准备把他的钻石换成钱；加上他一直藏在身边以备不时之需的那十张钞票，他还可以有五万里弗左右，这样，他乐观地认为他的状况已并不十分悲惨了。而且，他认为腾格拉尔为了面子，一定会阻止那件丑事的张扬。这些理由，再加上疲倦，竟使安德烈睡得非常香甜。为了要早醒，他不曾关百叶窗，但他小心地闩好房门，并把那柄他永不离身的尖利的小刀放在桌子上。早晨七点钟左右，一缕温暖而又耀眼的阳光照到安德烈的脸上，唤醒了他。凡是条理清晰的头脑里，晚上临睡前的最后一个念头和早晨醒来时的第一个念头总是相同的。安德烈还不曾睁开眼睛，他昨晚的念头便浮上他的脑海里来，并且在他的耳边轻轻地说，你睡得太久了。他从床上一跃而起，奔到窗口。一个宪兵正在院子里踱步。在一个良心上没有任何内疚的人，宪兵也是世界上最让人心理发怵的东西，那黄蓝白的三色制服，实在是非常值得惊惶的。
“那个宪兵为什么在那儿呢？”安德烈自言自语地说。但立刻，——读者们无疑地也会对他这样说——他又理智地对他自己说，“在一家旅馆里看见一个宪兵是不值得惊奇的。我不要吓慌，赶紧穿好衣服再说吧！”于是那青年人便很快地穿起衣服来；他在巴黎过豪华生活的那几个月中，他的仆人给他脱衣服也没有自己现在穿衣服这样快。“好！”安德烈一面穿衣服，一面说。“等到他离开，我就可以溜了。”安德烈现在已穿上皮靴、打好领结，他一面这样说，一面轻轻地走到窗口，第二次掀起麻纱窗帘。不但第一个宪兵依旧站在那儿，他现在发觉第二个穿黄蓝白三色制服的人站在楼梯脚下，——他下楼唯一的柴梯，——而第三个宪兵则骑着马，手里握着火枪，象一个哨兵似的站在大门口的街上，而钟瓶旅馆又只有这样一个出口。这第三个宪兵的出现肯定有特殊的原因的，因为他的前面有一群好奇的闲荡汉，紧紧地阻塞了旅馆的进口。“糟糕！他们找我！”这是安德烈的第一个念头。他的脸色立刻变得煞白，他焦急地向四面观望。他的房间，象这一层楼所有的房间一样，只有一扇通向走廊的门，从那道门出去是谁都看得见的。“我完啦！”这是他的第二个念头。的确，一个象安德烈犯那样罪的人，一次被捕就是等于终生的监禁、审判和处死，——而且毫不被人同情或早晚被处死。他痉挛地把他的头在自己的双手里埋了一会儿，在那一刹那间，他几乎吓得发疯；不久，从那混乱不清的脑子里和杂乱的思想里闪出了一线希望，他变白的嘴唇和苍白的脸上现出一丝微笑。他向四面一看，在壁炉架上看见了他所搜索的目标；那是笔、墨水和纸。他勉强镇定下来，把笔在墨水里蘸了一蘸，在一张纸上写了下面这几行字：“我没有钱付账，但我并非是一个不忠实的人；我留下这只十倍于房钱饭钱的夹针作抵押品。我在天刚亮时就逃走了，因为这会使我很难堪。”
于是他从领结上除下别针，放在那张纸上。等这一切办完以后，他不让房门继续紧闭，走过去拔开门闩，甚至把门拉成半开半掩的样子，象是他已离开房间，忘记关门似的；他抹掉地板上的足迹，熟练地溜进壁炉烟囱，开始顺着空烟囱往上爬；烟囱是他逃走的唯一机会了。与此同时，安德烈所注意到的那第一个宪兵已跟着警察局的执事官走上楼来，第二个宪兵仍守着楼梯，第三个宪兵仍守在大门口。
安德烈这次受追捕，背景是这样的：天一亮，紧急急报发向四面八方；各区的地方当局几乎立刻就以最大的努力来捕捉谋杀卡德鲁斯的凶手。贡比涅是一个警卫森严的市镇，有众多地方行政官吏、宪兵和警察；所以急报一到，他们便立即开始活动，而钟瓶旅馆是镇上的第一家大旅馆，他们自然要先到这来调查。而且，据在钟瓶旅馆隔壁市政府门口站岗的哨兵的报告，知道当天晚上那家旅馆住了几个旅客。那个在早晨六点钟下班的哨兵甚至还记得，正当他在四点零几分上班的时候，有一个青年人和一个小孩子合骑着一匹马到来。
那个青年在打发了那孩子骑马走以后，就去敲钟瓶旅馆的门，旅馆开门让他进去，然后又关上门。于是疑点便落到了那个这样夜深出门的青年人身上。
那个青年不是别人，就是安德烈。所以，警察局的执事官和那宪兵——他是团长——便朝安德烈的房间走来。他们发觉房门半开半掩。“噢，噢！”宪兵团长说，他是一个老狐狸，对罪犯的这套把戏称得上是见多识广，“开着门可是一个坏兆头！我情愿发现门关得紧紧的。”的确，桌子上的那张小纸条和夹针证实，或者不妨说，应验了他那句话的正确性。我们说应验，是因为那位宪兵团长经验丰富，决不肯只见到一件证据就深信不疑。他四面张望，翻一翻床，掀动帐帏，打开柜门，最后，在壁炉前面站停下来。安德烈曾小心不在炉灰里留下脚迹，但这是一个出口，而在那种情形下，每一个出口都需要严格检查，宪兵团长派人去拿一些麦杆来，把它塞满壁炉，然后点着火。火毕毕剥剥地烧起来，一股浓黑的烟柱沿着烟囱往上窜；但烟囱里却没有像他预期的那样有犯人掉下来。事实上：那宪兵虽很有经验，但自小就与社会作战的安德烈，其经验却也同样丰富；他早就预料到有这一场火攻，所以已爬到屋顶上，蜷缩在烟囱旁边。他现在认为自己已得救，因为他听到那宪兵团长大声对那两个宪兵喊道：“他不在这里啦！”但他小心地探出头看一下，他发觉宪兵在听到这个宣布以后非但没有退走，反而显得更警惕了。现在轮到他来向四周观望了。他的右边是市政府，一座十六世纪的大厦。任何人都可以从楼顶的窗口望下来，仔细察看下面屋顶上的每一个角落；而安德烈看见随时会有一个宪兵的头颅从那些窗口里探出来。要是一旦被发觉，他知道他就完了，因为屋顶上的一场追逐是不能幸免的；所以他决定下去，但不是从他上来时的烟囱下去，而是从通到另一个房间的烟囱下去。他四面环顾，找到一个不冒烟的烟囱，爬到那儿以后，他就神不知鬼不觉地消失到那烟囱口里了。在这同时，市政府楼顶的一扇小窗猛烈地被推开，宪兵团长的头露了出来。他在那儿一动不动地停留了一会儿，象是那座建筑物上的石雕装饰品一样，然后，就听得一声失望的长叹，他就不见了。那镇定和庄严得象代表法律一样的宪兵团长穿过人群，并不理会落到他身上来的种种询问的目光，重新走入钟瓶旅馆。
“怎么样？”那两个宪兵问。
“嗯，孩子们，”团长说，“那逃犯一定是今天一早就逃走了。但我们将派人到通维莱科特雷和诺永的路上去追赶他，并且加紧搜索森林，我们一定能捉到他。”
这位可敬的官员刚才用宪兵团长所特有的一阵那种抑扬顿挫的腔调说完这番话，就听得一声长长的惊叫，伴随着猛烈的铃声，传到旅馆的院子里。
“啊，那是什么声音？”宪兵团长喊道。
“似乎是有一位旅客等得不耐烦了，”老板说。“哪一个房间拉铃？”
“三号。”
“快跑去，侍者！”
这时，喊叫和铃声又响起来。
“啊，啊！”宪兵团长阻止那仆人，说，“拉铃的那个人看来不仅仅要一个侍者，我们带一个宪兵去。第三号房间里住的是谁？”
“昨天晚上到的一个小伙子，是乘马车来的，带着他的妹妹，他要了一个双铺房间。”这时铃声第三次响起来，听起来焦急万分。
“跟我来，警长先生！”宪兵团长说，“紧跟着我。”
“等一等，”老板说，“第三号房间有两道楼梯，一道内梯，一道外梯。”
“好！”宪兵团长说。“我负责内楼。枪里装好子弹了吗？”
“装好了，团长。”
“呣，你们把守外梯，假如他想逃跑，就开枪打他。据急报上所说的，他一定是一个危险的犯人。”
宪兵团长的安排在人群里激起了一片喧哗声，而他就和警察局的先生在这一片喧哗声中走上楼梯去了。
刚才的情形是这样的：安德烈非常熟练地下落到烟囱三分之二的地方，那时，他的脚一滑，虽然他两手仍旧抱住烟囱，他带着比他所原来想到的更大的速度和声音落到房间里。
假若那房间是空的，本来还无所谓，但不幸房间里却住着人。
那种响声惊醒了睡在一张床上的两个女人，她们把眼睛向发出声音的地方看了一眼，看见了一个男人。这两个女人之中的一个，皮肤白皙的那一个，发出了令人恐怖的尖叫；另外那一个则抢住那条位铃的绳带，用尽全力猛拉。我们可以看出，安德烈是被不幸所包围住了。
“发发慈悲吧，”他脸色苍白，迷惑地喊道，根本不曾看清是在向谁说话，——“发发慈悲吧，不要喊人！救救我！我不会伤害你们的。”
“安德烈！竟会是他！”她们当中的一个喊道。
“欧热妮·腾格拉尔小姐！”亚密莱小姐一面喊，一面从她同伴的手里夺过绳带，更猛烈拉铃。
“救救我，有人追我！”安德烈合拢双手说。“可怜可怜，发发慈悲吧，不要把我交给警方！”
“太迟啦，他们来了。”欧热妮说。
“嗯，把我藏起来，你们可以说，你们无缘无故地惊惶。你们可以引开他们视线，救救我的命！”
那两位小姐紧紧地挨一起，用床单紧紧地裹住她们的身体，不理会这种恳求；种种嫌恶的念头在她们的脑子里缠绕。
“好！这样吧，”欧热妮终于说，“从你来的那条路回去吧，我不会说出你的事情，你这卑鄙的坏蛋。”
“他在这儿！他在这儿！”楼梯顶上的一个声音喊道，“他在这儿！我看见他啦！”
原来那宪兵团长把他的眼睛放在钥匙孔上，已看见安德烈站在那儿苦苦哀求，枪托猛烈的一击震开了锁，接连又两下打垮了门闩，那扇打破了的门倒了下来。安德烈奔到通往走廊的那扇门前，打开门想冲出去。两个宪兵端着火枪站在那儿，他们把枪端平了对准他。安德烈顿时站住，身体微微后仰，脸色苍白，手里紧紧地捏住那把无用的小刀。
“赶快逃呀！”亚密莱小姐喊道，她的恐惧感渐渐消失，又开始发起慈悲心，“逃呀！”
“不然就自杀！”欧热妮说，她的口气象是在吩咐竞技场上胜利的武士了结他那被征服的对手一样。
安德烈打了一个寒颤，带着一个轻蔑的微笑望着欧热妮，显然可以看出他那腐败头脑无法懂得这种崇高的荣誉感。“自杀！”他抛下他的小刀喊道，“我为什么要那样做？”
“你还说为什么，”腾格拉尔小姐回答道，“你会象穷凶极恶的犯人那样被判处死刑的。”
“哼！”卡瓦尔康蒂交叉起两臂说，“一个人总是有朋友的帮助呀！”
宪兵团长手里握着剑向他走过来。
“来，来，”安德烈说，“把你的剑插回到鞘里吧，勇敢的人，我既然已自甘屈服，又何必这样剑拔弩张呢。”于是他伸出双手等待上铐。两位姑娘恐怖地望着这种可怕的一切，——那凡夫俗子已剥掉他的皮层，露出监狱里犯人的真面目。安德烈转向她们，带着一种无礼的微笑问道，“你有什么话要带给令尊吗，腾格拉尔小姐？因为我多半还是要回到巴黎去的。”
欧热妮双手挡住自己面孔。“噢，噢！”安德烈说，“何必难为情呢，即使你真的跟踪我，我对你的印象也不会太坏。我不是几乎做了你的丈夫了吗？”
安德烈带着这种嘲弄走出去了，留下那两个姑娘去承受她们所受的侮辱和看热闹的群众的评论。一小时以后，她们都穿戴着女子的衣服跨进她们的四轮马车。旅馆曾关门来挡住闲人的眼光；但当大门重开的时候，她们却只好从两排带着发光的眼睛和窃窃私语的好奇的旁观者之中挤出去。欧热妮关上百叶窗，她虽然看不见，她却还能听得些什么，群众的讥诮声依旧还能钻到马车里来。“噢！为什么世界不是一片旷野呢？”她一面这样悲叹，一面倒入亚密莱小姐的怀里，她这时眼睛里所露出的怒火，正如尼罗王希望罗马世界有一条颈子，他一击就能把它斩断。第二天，她们车子在希鲁塞尔法兰达旅馆的门口停下。当天晚上，安德烈被拘禁在卫兵室里。