BURGLARY.
Half-past eleven had just struck, when Dagobert and his son arrived on the Boulevard de l'Hopital.
The wind blew violently, and the rain fell down in torrents, but notwithstanding the thickness of the watery clouds, it was tolerably light, thanks to the late rising of the moon.The tall, dark trees, and the white walls of the convent garden, were distinguishable in the midst of the pale glimmer.Afar off, a street lamp, acted on by the wind, with its red lights hardly visible through the mist and rain, swung backwards and forwards over the dirty causeway of the solitary boulevard.
At rare intervals, they heard, at a very great distance, the rattle and rumble of a coach, returning home late; then all was again silent.
Since their departure from the Rue Brise-Miche, Dagobert and his son had hardly exchanged a word.The design of these two brave men was noble and generous, and yet, resolute but pensive, they glided through the darkness like bandits, at the hour of nocturnal crimes.
Agricola carried on his shoulders the sack containing the cord, the hook, and the iron bar; Dagobert leaned upon the arm of his son, and Spoil-
sport followed his master.
"The bench, where we sat down, must be close by," said Dagobert, stopping.
"Yes," said Agricola, looking around; "here it is, father."
"It is oily half-past eleven--we must wait for midnight," resumed Dagobert."Let us be seated for an instant, to rest ourselves, and decide upon our plan."
After a moment's silence, the soldier took his son's hands between his own, and thus continued: "Agricola, my child--it is yet time.Let me go alone, I entreat you.I shall know very well how to get through the business; but the nearer the moment comes, the more I fear to drag you into this dangerous enterprise."
"And the nearer the moment comes, father, the more I feel I may be of some use; but, be it good or bad, I will share the fortune of your adventure.Our object is praiseworthy; it is a debt of honor that you have to pay, and I will take one half of it.Do not fancy that I will now draw back.And so, dear father, let us think of our plan of action."
"Then you will come?" said Dagobert, stifling a sigh.
"We must do everything," proceeded Agricola, "to secure success.You have already noticed the little garden-door, near the angle of the wall--
that is excellent."
"We shall get by that way into the garden, and look immediately for the open paling."
"Yes; for on one side of this paling is the wing inhabited by Mdlle.de Cardoville, and on the other that part of the convent in which the general's daughters are confined."
At this moment, Spoil-sport, who was crouching at Dagobert's feet, rose suddenly, and pricked up his ears, as if to listen.
"One would think that Spoil-sport heard something," said Agricola.They listened--but heard only the wind, sounding through the tall trees of the boulevard.
"Now I think of it, father--when the garden-door is once open, shall we take Spoil-sport with us?"
"Yes; for if there is a watch-dog, he will settle him.And then he will give us notice of the approach of those who go the rounds.Besides, he is so intelligent, so attached to Rose and Blanche, that (who knows?) he may help to discover the place where they are.Twenty times I have seen him find them in the woods, by the most extraordinary instinct."
A slow and solemn knell here rose above the noise of the wind: it was the first stroke of twelve.
That note seemed to echo mournfully through the souls of Agricola and his father.Mute with emotion, they shuddered, and by a spontaneous movement, each grasped the hand of the other.In spite of themselves, their hearts kept time to every stroke of the clock, as each successive vibration was prolonged through the gloomy silence of the night.
At the last strobe, Dagobert said to his son, in a firm voice: "It is midnight.Shake hands, and let us forward!"
The moment was decisive and solemn."Now, father," said Agricola, "we will act with as much craft and daring as thieves going to pillage a strong box."
So saying, the smith took from the sack the cord and hook; Dagobert armed himself with the iron bar, and both advanced cautiously, following the wall in the direction of the little door, situated not far from the angle formed by the street and the boulevard.They stopped from time to time, to listen attentively, trying to distinguish those noises which were not caused either by the high wind or the rain.
It continued light enough for them to be able to see surrounding objects, and the smith and the soldier soon gained the little door, which appeared much decayed, and not very strong.
"Good!" said Agricola to his father."It will yield at one blow."
The smith was about to apply his shoulder vigorously to the door, when Spoil-sport growled hoarsely, and made a "point." Dagobert silenced the dog with a word, and grasping his son's arm, said to him in a whisper:
"Do not stir.The dog has scented some one in the garden."
Agricola and his father remained for some minutes motionless, holding their breath and listening.The dog, in obedience to his master, no longer growled, but his uneasiness and agitation were displayed more and more.Yet they heard nothing.
"The dog must have been deceived, father," whispered Agricola.
"I am sure of the contrary.Do not move."
After some seconds of expectation, Spoil-sport crouched down abruptly, and pushed his nose as far as possible under the door, snuffling up the air.
"They are coming," said Dagobert hastily, to his son.
"Let us draw off a little distance," replied Agricola.
"No," said his father; "we must listen.It will be time to retire, if they open the door.Here, Spoil-sport! down!"
The dog obeyed, and withdrawing from the door, crouched down at the feet of his master.Some seconds after, they heard a sort of splashing on the damp ground, caused by heavy footsteps in puddles of water, and then the sound of words, which carried away by the wind, did not reach distinctly the ears of the soldier and the smith.