“And think you that we should find him at this hour at his
post?”
“Certainly.”
“Let us go and see your beggar, sir, and if he is such as
you describe him, you are right — it will be you who have
discovered the true treasure.”
Gondy dressed himself as an officer, put on a felt cap with
a red feather, hung on a long sword, buckled spurs to his
boots, wrapped himself in an ample cloak and followed the
curate.
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
The coadjutor and his companion passed through all the
streets lying between the archbishopric and the St. Eustache
Church, watching carefully to ascertain the popular feeling.
The people were in an excited mood, but, like a swarm of
frightened bees, seemed not to know at what point to
concentrate; and it was very evident that if leaders of the
people were not provided all this agitation would pass off
in idle buzzing.
On arriving at the Rue des Prouvaires, the curate pointed
toward the square before the church.
“Stop!” he said, “there he is at his post.”
Gondy looked at the spot indicated and perceived a beggar
seated in a chair and leaning against one of the moldings; a
little basin was near him and he held a holy water brush in
his hand.
“Is it by permission that he remains there?” asked Gondy.
“No, my lord; these places are bought. I believe this man
paid his predecessor a hundred pistoles for his.”
“The rascal is rich, then?”
“Some of those men sometimes die worth twenty thousand and
twenty-five and thirty thousand francs and sometimes more.”
“Hum!” said Gondy, laughing; “I was not aware my alms were
so well invested.”
In the meantime they were advancing toward the square, and
the moment the coadjutor and the curate put their feet on
the first church step the mendicant arose and proffered his
brush.
He was a man between sixty-six and sixty-eight years of age,
little, rather stout, with gray hair and light eyes. His
countenance denoted the struggle between two opposite
principles — a wicked nature, subdued by determination,
perhaps by repentance.
He started on seeing the cavalier with the curate. The
latter and the coadjutor touched the brush with the tips of
their fingers and made the sign of the cross; the coadjutor
threw a piece of money into the hat, which was on the
ground.
“Maillard,” began the curate, “this gentleman and I have
come to talk with you a little.”
“With me!” said the mendicant; “it is a great honor for a
poor distributor of holy water.”
There was an ironical tone in his voice which he could not
quite disguise and which astonished the coadjutor.
“Yes,” continued the curate, apparently accustomed to this
tone, “yes, we wish to know your opinion of the events of
to-day and what you have heard said by people going in and
out of the church.”
The mendicant shook his head.
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“These are melancholy doings, your reverence, which always
fall again upon the poor. As to what is said, everybody is
discontented, everybody complains, but `everybody’ means
`nobody.'”
“Explain yourself, my good friend,” said the coadjutor.
“I mean that all these cries, all these complaints, these
curses, produce nothing but storms and flashes and that is
all; but the lightning will not strike until there is a hand
to guide it.”
“My friend,” said Gondy, “you seem to be a clever and a
thoughtful man; are you disposed to take a part in a little
civil war, should we have one, and put at the command of the
leader, should we find one, your personal influence and the
influence you have acquired over your comrades?”
“Yes, sir, provided this war were approved of by the church
and would advance the end I wish to attain — I mean, the
remission of my sins.”
“The war will not only be approved of, but directed by the
church. As for the remission of your sins, we have the
archbishop of Paris, who has the very greatest power at the
court of Rome, and even the coadjutor, who possesses some
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