opens the
door, and the one-eyed mother of mischief tosses up her arms and makes
her way into the garden. I could have kicked myself for not being able
to make out what the Chouette was up to. At last out she comes, puts on
her bonnet, says two words to Tortillard, who returns to his hole, and
then 'cuts her stick.' I say to myself, 'Caution! no blunder now!
Tortillard has come with the Chouette; then the Schoolmaster and M.
Rodolph are at Bras Rouge's. The Chouette has come out to reconnoitre
about the house; then, sure as a gun, they'll "try it on" this very
night! If they do, M. Rodolph, who believes they will not go to work
till to-morrow, is quite over-reached; and if he is over-reached, I
ought to go to Bras Rouge's and see for him. True; but then suppose that
the Schoolmaster arrives in the meantime,--that's to be thought of.
Suppose I go to the house and see M. Murphy,--mind your eye! that urchin
Tortillard is near the door; he will hear me ring the bell, see me, and
give the word to the Chouette; and if she returns, that will spoil all;
and the more particularly as perhaps M. Rodolph has, after all, made his
arrangements for this evening.' Confound it! these yes and no bothered
my brain tremendously. I was quite bewildered, and saw nothing clear
before me. I didn't know what to do for the best, so I said, 'I'll walk
out, and perhaps the clear air will brighten my thoughts a bit.' I went
out, and the open air cleared my brain; so I took off my blouse and my
neck-handkerchief, I went to the ditch where Tortillard lay, and taking
the young devil's kin by the cuff of his neck,--how he did wriggle, and
twist, and scuffle, and scratch!--I put him into my blouse, tying up one
end with the sleeves and the bottom tightly with my cravat. He could
breathe very well. Well, then I took the bundle under my arm, and
passing a low, damp garden, surrounded by a little wall, I threw the
brat Tortillard into the midst of a cabbage-bed. He squeaked like a
sucking-pig, but nobody could hear him two steps off. I cut off; it was
time. I climbed up one of the high trees in the Allee, just in front of
your door, and over the ditch in which Tortillard had been stationed.
Ten minutes afterwards I heard footsteps; it was raining still, and the
night was very dark. I listened,--it was the Chouette. 'Tortillard!
Tortillard!' says she, in a low voice. 'It rains, and the little brat is
tired of waiting,' said the Schoolmaster, swearing; 'if I