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"To be sure it was. Malicorne and I were quite stupefied at it, if that were possible." "It is impossible, brave Bourdin." "Happily, general, but here is the fact; this handsome viscount has got new titles." "Has he become a count?" "No! from a cheat he has become a robber." "Ah! ah!"
"Very well, it shall be so," said Bourdin, in a loud voice, and looking significantly at the artisan; "in such case, as you promise to pay in a short time, we will leave you for the present, and call again in four or five days; but then you must be punctual." "Yes, gentlemen, I trust I shall then be able to pay you."
And what a night that was you were along with him, Jean, and so was Chapeau. M. Henri was up first, I can swear to that; but it would puzzle any one to say who was second." "Yourself Louis, was as quick as any one I marked you well. Indeed then, said I to myself, if all our men are as forward as Louis Bourdin, the village will have a great name before the war is over."
I will put the Owl up to this!" added Red Arm's son. "If you do not leave this room instantly, I will call the police," said Morel. The children, frightened at this scene, began to cry, while the old idiot started upright in her bed. "If any one has a right to call the police, we're the men. Do you hear, Mister Sideways?" said Bourdin.
He saw plainly enough that they meant to have his head. The next day, when Messieurs de Thou, de Viole, d'Espesse, the procureur-general Bourdin, and the chief clerk of the court du Tillet, entered his presence, he kept them standing, and expressed his regrets to see them charged with a duty which did not belong to them. Then he said to the clerk, "Write down what I say," and dictated as follows:
Finally, several rings, enriched with precious stones, sparkled on the fat red fingers of this prisoner, known as Boulard the Bailiff, accused of breach of trust. His visitor was Pierre Bourdin, one of the officers charged with the arrest of Morel the jeweler. Bourdin was rather shorter, but quite as fat, and attired after his patron, whose magnificence he admired.
"You'll see the police lend a hand to take you, if you don't go quietly," added Malicorne; "we have not the magistrate with us, it is true; but if you wish to enjoy his society, you shall have a taste of one, just out of his bed, quite hot and heavy. Bourdin will go and fetch him." "To prison! Me?" cried the astounded Morel. "Yes, to Clichy." "To Clichy!" repeated the artisan, with a wild look.
"I see with pleasure that friendship remains faithful to the unfortunate," said Boulard, with cordial gayety; "yet I began to be uneasy. Three days since I wrote to you, and no Bourdin till now." "Imagine, general, quite a history. You recollect well the handsome viscount in the Rue de Chaillot?" "Saint Remy?" "Exactly! you know how he laughed at our writs?" "It was quite indecent."
"And then, let her send a hamper of Burgundy, Champagne, and Bordeaux, just like the last she knows what that means! and let her add two bottles of her old 1817 Cognac, and a pound of pure Mocha, fresh ground and burned." "I will just note down the date of the brandy, so as not to forget it," said Bourdin, taking his notebook from his pocket.
The other was short and thick-set, his countenance equally mean, and his hair red. He was dressed with an attempt at finery, quite ridiculous. Bright studs fastened the front of his shirt, whose cleanliness was more than doubtful; a long gold chain, passed across his second-hand plaid stuff waistcoat, was left to view by a velveteen jacket, of a yellowish-gray color. This man's name was Bourdin.
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