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Updated: June 3, 2025
The air she knew, and the voice she knew. The chanson was, "Le Voleur de grand Chemin!" The voice was her husband's. She knew the words, too; and even before she could hear them, they were fitting into the air: "Qui va la! There's some one in the orchard, There's a robber in the apple-trees; Qui va la! He is creeping through the doorway. Ah, allez-vous-en! Va-t'-en!"
He is apprehended by a gendarme who sees the act. 'Voleur, he cries to the gendarme, 'do you want to rob me of my property? 'That door your property? I saw you take it away. 'You confess, cries the citizen, triumphantly 'you confess that it is my property; for you saw me appropriate it. Thus you see how imperishable is the instinct of property.
Le voleur n'a pas vole La belle corde de chanvre. "Greve, grouille, Greve, aboie! Pour voir la fille de joie, Prendre au gibet chassieux, Les fenetres sont des yeux. Greve, grouille, Greve, aboie!"* * Bark, Greve, grumble, Greve! Spin, spin, my distaff, spin her rope for the hangman, who is whistling in the meadow. What a beautiful hempen rope! Sow hemp, not wheat, from Issy to Vanvre.
The black cat, which had been cruising, after the inquisitive fashion of its kind, in far corners of the room, strolled back and looked up to the table where the bowl of coffee steamed and waited. "Get out!" cried Ste. Marie. "Va t'en, sale petit animal! Go and eat birds! That's my coffee. Va! Sauve toi! Hé, voleur que tu es!"
What pains my Lady Pomfret would take to prove that an abdicated King's wife did not take place of an English countess; and how the Princess herself would grow still fonder of the Pretender for the similitude of his fortune with that of le Roi mon mari! Her daughter, Mirepoix, was frightened the other night, with Mrs. Nugent's calling out, un voleur! un voleur!
"When I recovered the property of your father, stolen at Havre, I played the part of a dandy, and won the confidence of the stewardess, though I came very near having to fight a duel with the voleur who was her 'pal' in the robbery." "Of course it will not do for me to wear my lieutenant's uniform," suggested Christy.
The case in question was that of a certain notary, Peytel by name, of Belley, who was accused of the premeditated murder of his wife and man-servant. Balzac had had a slight acquaintance with him in 1831, at the time when Peytel was part owner of the Voleur, to which Balzac contributed.
I did not touch the letters, but finding a box full of certain preservative sheaths against the fatal and dreaded plumpness, I emptied it, and I placed in it the following lines instead of the stolen goods: 'Enfants de L'Amitie, ministres de la Peur, Je suis l'Amour, tremblez, respectez le voleur! Et toi, femme de Dieu, ne crains pas d'etre mere; Car si to le deviens, Dieu seal sera le pere.
Every possible precaution had been taken \against their being disagreeably surprised on their route. Their chief fear on the journey had been, of course, the cry common in their day of "Au voleur!" and the meeting of brigands and assassins; for, once outside of Paris and the police reforms of that dear Colbert, and one must be prepared to take one's life in one's hand.
After being exposed two hours, they are stripped, and to their shoulder is applied a hot iron, which there leaves the impression of the letter V, for voleur, thief. Women, not being condemned to imprisonment in irons; are exempt from the penalty of being marked. This punishment is said to produce considerable effect on the culprits, as well as on the spectators.
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