"Yet here is my master," said the Chourineur, laying his hand on Rodolph's shoulder.
"Stay, I do not know him," said the agent de police, looking steadfastly at Rodolph.
"And I do not think we shall form an acquaintance now," replied he.
"I hope not, for your sake, my fine fellow," said the agent; then, turning to the ogress, "Good night, Mother Ponisse; your tapis-franc is a regular mouse-trap; this is the third assassin I have taken here."
"I hope it won't be the last, M. Narcisse; it is quite at your service," said the ogress, making a very insinuating nod with her head.
After the departure of the police, the young vagabond with the haggard visage, who was smoking and drinking brandy, refilled his pipe, and said in a hoarse voice to the Chourineur:
"Didn't you 'twig' the 'cove' in the Greek cap? He's Boulotte's man. When I saw the traps walk in, I says to myself, says I, there's something up; and then, too, I saw him keep his hand always under the table."
"It's lucky for the Schoolmaster and Gros-Boiteux that they were not here," said the ogress; "Greek cap asked twice for him, and said they had business together; but I never turn 'nose' (informer) on any customer. If they take them, very well,—every one to his trade; but I never sell my friends. Oh, talk of the old gentleman, and you see his horns," added the hag, as at the moment a man and woman entered the cabaret; "here they are,—the Schoolmaster and his companion. Well, he was right not to show her, for I never see such an ugly creetur in my born days. She ought to be very much obliged to him for having taken up with such a face."
At the name of the Schoolmaster, a sort of shudder seemed to circulate amongst the guests of the tapis-franc. Rodolph, himself, in spite of his natural intrepidity, could not wholly subdue a slight emotion at the sight of this redoubtable ruffian, whom he contemplated for some seconds with a mixed feeling of curiosity and horror. The Chourineur had spoken truth when he said that the Schoolmaster was frightfully mutilated. Nothing can be imagined more horrible than the countenance of this man. His face was furrowed in all directions with deep, livid cicatrices; the corrosive action of the vitriol had puffed out his lips; the cartilages of his nose were divided, and two misshapen holes supplied the loss of nostrils. His gray eyes were bright, small, circular, and sparkled savagely; his forehead, as flat as a tiger's, was half hidden beneath a fur cap, with long yellow hair, looking like the crest of a monster.
The Schoolmaster was not more than five feet four or five; his head, which was disproportionately large, was buried between two shoulders, broad, powerful, and fleshy, displaying themselves even under the loose folds of his coarse cotton blouse; he had long, muscular arms, hands short, thick, and hairy to the very fingers' end, with legs somewhat bowed, whose enormous calves betokened his vast strength. This man presented, in fact, the exaggeration of what there is of short, thickset, and condensed, in the type of the Hercules Farnese. As to the expression of ferocity which suffused this hideous mask, and the restless, wild, and glaring look, more like a wild beast than a human being, it is impossible to describe them.