22The ex-cook appeared before Tantaine in all his appalling vulgarity asthe latter descended the stairs. The proprietor of the musical academywas a stout, red-faced man, with an insolent mouth and a cynical eye.

He was gorgeously dressed, and wore a profusion of jewelry. He wasmuch startled at seeing Tantaine, whom he knew to be the redoubtableMascarin's right-hand man. "A thousand thunders!" muttered he. "Ifthese people have sent him here for me, I must take care what I amabout," and with a friendly smile he extended his hand to Tantaine.

"Glad to see you," said he. "Now, what can I do for you, for I hopeyou have come to ask me to do something?""The veriest trifle," returned Tantaine.

"I am sorry that it is not something of importance, for I have thegreatest respect for M. Mascarin."This conversation had taken place in the window, and was interruptedevery moment by the shouts and laughter of the children; but beneaththese sounds of merriment came an occasional bitter wail oflamentation.

"What is that?" inquired Perpignan, in a voice of thunder. "Whopresumes to be unhappy in this establishment?""It is two of the lads that I have put on half rations," returnedPoluche. "I'll make them learn somehow or----"A dark frown on the master's face arrested his further speech. "Whatdo I hear?" roared Perpignan. "Do you dare, under my roof, to deprivethose poor children of an ounce of food? It is scandalous, I may say,infamous on your part, M. Poluche.""But, sir," faltered the professor, "have you not told me hundreds oftimes--""That you were an idiot, and would never be anything better. Go andtell Mother Butor to give these poor children their dinner."Repressing further manifestations of rage, Perpignan took Tantaine bythe arm and led him into a little side-room, which he dignified by thename of his office. There was nothing in it but three chairs, a commondeal table, and a few shelves containing ledgers. "You have come onbusiness, I presume," remarked Perpignan.

Tantaine nodded, and the two men seated themselves at the table,gazing keenly into each other's eyes, as though to read the thoughtsthat moved in the busy brain.

"How did you find out my little establishment down here?" askedPerpignan.

"By a mere chance," remarked Tantaine carelessly. "I go about a gooddeal, and hear many things. For instance, you have taken everyprecaution here, and though you are really the proprietor, yet thehusband of your cook and housekeeper, Butor, is supposed to be theowner of the house--at least it stands in his name. Now, if anythinguntoward happened, you would vanish, and only Butor would remain aprey for the police."Tantaine paused for a moment, and then slowly added, "Such tacticsusually succeed unless a man has some secret enemy, who would takeadvantage of his knowledge, to do him an injury by obtainingirrefragable proofs of his complicity."The ex-cook easily perceived the threat that was hidden under thesewords. "They know something," muttered he, "and I must find out whatit is.""If a man has a clear conscience," said he aloud, "he is all right. Ihave nothing to conceal, and therefore nothing to fear. You have nowseen my establishment; what do you think of it?""It seems to me a very well-conducted one.""It may have occurred to you that a factory at Roubaix might have beena better investment, but I had not the capital to begin with."Tantaine nodded. "It is not half a bad trade," said he.

"I agree with you. In the Rue St. Marguerite you will find more thanone similar establishment; but I never cared for the situation of theFaubourg St. Antoine. My little angels find this spot moresalubrious.""Yes, yes," answered Tantaine amicably, "and if they howl too muchwhen they are corrected, there are not too many neighbors to hearthem."Perpignan thought it best to take no notice of this observation. "Thepapers are always pitching into us," continued he. "They had muchbetter stick to politics. The fact is, that the profits of ourbusiness are tremendously exaggerated.""Well, you manage to make a living out of it?""I don't lose, I confess, but I have six little cherubs in hospital,besides the one in the kitchen, and these, of course, are a dead lossto me.""That is a sad thing for you," answered Tantaine gravely.

Perpignan began to be amazed at his visitor's coolness.

"Damn it all," said he, "if you and Mascarin think the business such aprofitable one, why don't you go in for it. You may perhaps think iteasy to procure the kids; just try it. You have to go to Italy formost of them, then you have to smuggle them across the frontier likebales of contraband goods."Perpignan paused to take a breath, and Tantaine asked,--"What sum to you make each of the lads bring in daily?""That depends," answered Perpignan hesitatingly.

"Well, you can give an average?""Say three francs then.""Three francs!" repeated Tantaine with a genial smile, "and you haveforty little cherubs, so that makes one hundred and twenty francs perday.""Absurd!" retorted Perpignan; "do you think each of the lads bring insuch a sum as that?""Ah! you know the way to make them do so.""I don't understand you," answered Perpignan, in whose voice a shadeof anxiety now began to appear.

"No offence, no offence," answered Tantaine; "but the fact is, thenewspapers are doing you a great deal of harm, by retailing some ofthe means adopted by your colleague to make the boys do a good day'swork. Do you recollect the sentence on that master who tied one of hislads down on a bed, and left him without food for two days at astretch?""I don't care about such matters; no one can bring a charge of crueltyagainst me," retorted Perpignan angrily.

"A man with the kindest heart in the world may be the victim ofcircumstances."Perpignan felt that the decisive moment was at hand.

"What do you mean?" asked he.

"Well, suppose, to punish one of your refractory lads, you were toshut him in the cellar. A storm comes on during the night, the guttergets choked up, the cellar fills with water, and next morning you findthe little cherub drowned like a rat in his hole?"Perpignan's face was livid.

"Well, and what then?" asked he.

"Ah! now the awkward part of the matter comes. You would not care tosend for the police, that might excite suspicion; the easiest thing isto dig a hole and shove the body into it."Perpignan got up and placed his back against the door.

"You know too much, M. Tantaine,--a great deal too much," said he.

Perpignan's manner was most threatening; but Tantaine still smiledpleasantly, like a child who had just committed some simplymischievous act, the results of which it cannot foresee.

"The sentence isn't heavy," he continued; "five years' penalservitude, if evidence of previous good conduct could be put in; butif former antecedents were disclosed, such as a journey to Nancy----"This was the last straw, and Perpignan broke out,--"What do you mean?" said he; "and what do you want me to do?""Only a trifling service, as I told you before. My dear sir, do notput yourself in a rage," he added, as Perpignan seemed disposed tospeak again. "Was it not you who first began to talk of your, 'em--well, let us say business?""Then you wanted to make yourself agreeable by talking all this rot tome. Well, shall I tell you in my turn what I think?""By all means, if it will not be giving you too much trouble.""Then I tell you that you have come here on an errand which no manshould venture to do alone. You are not of the age and build forbusiness like this. It is a misfortune--a fatal one perhaps--to putyourself in my power, in such a house as this.""But, my dear sir, what is likely to happen to me?"The features of the ex-cook were convulsed with fury; he was in thatmad state of rage in which a man has no control over himself.

Mechanically his hand slipped into his pocket; but before he coulddraw it out again, Tantaine who had not lost one of his movements,sprang upon him and grasped him so tightly by the throat that he waspowerless to adopt any offensive measures, in spite of his greatstrength and robust build. The struggle was not a long one; the oldman hurled his adversary to the ground, and placed his foot on hischest, and held him down, his whole face and figure seeminglytransfigured with the glories of strength and success.

"And so you wished to stab me,--to murder a poor and inoffensive oldman. Do you think that I was fool enough to enter your cut-throat doorwithout taking proper precautions?" And as he spoke he drew a revolverfrom his bosom. "Throw away your knife," added he sternly.

In obedience to this mandate, Perpignan, who was now entirelydemoralized, threw the sharp-pointed weapon which he had contrived toopen in his pocket into a corner of the room.

"Good," said Tantaine. "You are growing more reasonable now. Of courseI came alone, but do you think that plenty of people did not knowwhere I was going to? Had I not returned to-night, do you think thatmy master, M. Mascarin, would have been satisfied? and how long do youthink it would have been before he and the police would have beenhere. If you do not do all that I wish for the rest of your life, youwill be the most ungrateful fellow in the world."Perpignan was deeply mortified; he had been worsted in single combat,and now he was being found out, and these things had never happened tohim before.

"Well, I suppose that I must give in," answered he sulkily.

"Quite so; it is a pity that you did not think of that before.""You vexed me and made me angry.""Just so; well, now, get up, take that chair, and let us talkreasonably."Perpignan obeyed without a word.

"Now," said Tantaine, "I came here with a really magnificent proposal.

But I adopted the course I pursued because I wished to prove to youthat /you/ belonged more absolutely to Mascarin than did your wretchedforeign slaves to you. You are absolutely at his mercy, and he cancrush you to powder whenever he likes.""Your Mascarin is Satan himself," muttered the discomfited man. "Whocan resist him?""Come, as you think thus, we can talk sensibly at last.""Well," answered Perpignan ruefully, as he adjusted his disorderednecktie, "say what you like, I have no answer to make.""Let us begin at the commencement," said Tantaine. "For some days pastyour people have been following a certain Caroline Schimmel. A fellowof sixteen called Ambrose, a lad with a harp, was told off for thisduty. He is not to be trusted. Only a night or two ago one of my menmade him drunk; and fearing lest his absence might create surprise,drove him here in a cab, and left him at the corner."The ex-cook uttered an oath.

"Then you too are watching Caroline," said he. "I knew well that therewas some one else in the field, but that was no matter of mine.""Well, tell me why you are watching her?""How can you ask me? You know that my motto is silence and discretion,and that this is a secret intrusted to my honor."Tantaine shrugged his shoulders.

"Why do you talk like that, when you know very well that you aref............