"You are very fond of me, perhaps--just as the butcher likes the ox that he drives to the slaughter-house."
"Are you mad?"
"A man does not pay a hundred thousand francs for another without a motive."
"I have a motive."
"What is it? what do you want to do with me?"
"A jolly companion that will spend his money like a man, and pass every night like the last.Good wine, good cheer, pretty girls, and gay songs.
Is that such a bad trade?"
After he had remained a moment without answering, the young man replied with a gloomy air: "Why, on the eve of my leaving prison, did you attach this condition to my freedom, that I should write to my mistress to tell her that I would never see her again! Why did you exact this letter from me?"
"A sigh! what, are you still thinking of her?"
"Always."
"You are wrong.Your mistress is far from Paris by this time.I saw her get into the stage-coach, before I came to take you out of Sainte-
Pelagie."
"Yes, I was stifled in that prison.To get out, I would have given my soul to the devil.You thought so, and therefore you came to me; only, instead of my soul, you took Cephyse from me.Poor Bacchanal-Queen! And why did you do it? Thousand thunders! Will you tell me!"
"A man as much attached to his mistress as you are is no longer a man.
He wants energy, when the occasion requires."
"What occasion?"
"Let us drink!"
"You make me drink too much brandy."
"Bah! look at me!"
"That's what frightens me.It seems something devilish.A bottle of brandy does not even make you wink.You must have a stomach of iron and a head of marble."
"I have long travelled in Russia.There we drink to roast ourselves."
"And here to only warm.So--let's drink--but wine."
"Nonsense! wine is fit for children.Brandy for men like us!"
"Well, then, brandy; but it burns, and sets the head on fire, and then we see all the flames of hell!"
"That's how I like to see you, hang it!"
"But when you told me that I was too much attached to my mistress, and that I should want energy when the occasion required, of what occasion did you speak?"
"Let us drink!"
"Stop a moment, comrade.I am no more of a fool than others.Your half-
words have taught me something.
"Well, what?"
"You know that I have been a workman, that I have many companions, and that, being a good fellow, I am much liked amongst them.You want me for a catspaw, to catch other chestnuts?"
"What then?"
"You must be some getter-up of riots--some speculator in revolts."
"What next?"
"You are travelling for some anonymous society, that trades in musket-
shots."
"Are you a coward?"
"I burned powder in July, I can tell you--make no mistakes!"
"You would not mind burning some again?"
"Just as well that sort of fireworks as any other.Only I find revolutions more agreeable than useful; all that I got from the barricades of the three days was burnt breeches and a lost jacket.All the cause won by me, with its 'Forward! March!' says."
"You know many of Hardy's workmen?"
"Oh! that's why you have brought me down here?"
"Yes--you will meet with many of the workmen from the factory."
"Men from Hardy's take part in a row? No, no; they are too well off for that.You have been sold."
"You will see presently."
"I tell you they are well off.What have they to complain of?"
"What of their brethren--those who have not so good a master, and die of hunger and misery, and call on them for assistance? Do you think they will remain deaf to such a summons? Hardy is only an exception.Let the people but give a good pull all together, and the exception will become the rule, and all the world be happy."
"What you say there is true, but it would be a devil of a pull that would make an honest man out of my old master, Baron Tripeaud, who made me what I am--an out-and-out rip."
"Hardy's workmen are coming; you are their comrade, and have no interest in deceiving them.They will believe you.Join with me in persuading them--"
"To what?"
"To leave this factory, in which they grow effeminate and selfish, and forget their brothers."
"But if they leave the factory, how are they to live?"
"We will provide for that--on the great day."
"And what's to be done till then?"
"What you have done last night--drink, laugh, sing, and, by way of work, exercise themselves privately in the use of arms.'
"Who will bring these workmen here?"
"Some one has already spoken to them.They have had printed papers, reproaching them with indifference to their brothers.Come, will you support me?"
"I'll support you--the more readily as I cannot very well support myself.
I only cared for Cephyse in the world; I know that I am on a bad road;
you are pushing me on further; let the ball roll!--Whether we go to the devil one way or the other is not of much consequence.Let's drink."
"Drink to our next night's fun; the last was only apprenticeship."
"Of what then are you made? I looked at you, and never saw you either blush or smile, or change countenance.You are like a man of iron."
"I am not a lad of fifteen.It would take something more to make me laugh.I shall laugh to-night."
"I don't know if it's the brandy; but, devil take me, if you don't frighten me when you say you shall laugh tonight!"
So saying, the young man rose, staggering; he began to be once more intoxicated.
There was a knock at the door."Come in!" The host made his appearance.
"What's the matter?"
"There's a young man below, who calls himself Olivier.He asks for M.
Morok."
"That's right.Let him came up." The host went out.
"It is one of our men, but he is alone," said Morok, whose savage countenance expressed disappointment."It astonishes me, for I expected a good number.Do you know him?"
"Olivier? Yes--a fair chap, I think."
"We shall see him directly.Here he is." A young man, with an open, bold, intelligent countenance, at this moment entered the room.
"What! old Sleepinbuff!" he exclaimed, at sight of Morok's companion.
"Myself.I have not seen you for an age, Olivier."
"Simple enough, my boy.We do not work at the same place."
"But you are alone!" cried Morok; and pointing to Sleepinbuff, he added:
