"Oh! no," said M. de Saint Marsin, smiling. "I do not think my forbearance would extend quite so far as that: however, I will think about it. I have not yet examined the case. I do not very well see what are the duties of a father towards a child who does not consider himself bound to obey his father. And remember that this is not my fault, for I never before met with a child who entertained these ideas."
With these words he went away. Armand, who clearly perceived that they were making game of him, began to weary of these pleasantries; but at the same time, he was becoming confirmed in the idea of following his own will. Near the place where he had seen the ball-playing, he had noticed another spot where they were firing at a target, and the idea of this had recurred to him since his return. His father, when in the country, had begun to teach him the use of firearms, and had even occasionally allowed him to accompany him on a shooting excursion, an amusement which greatly delighted Armand. But M. de Saint Marsin would not permit him to use firearms in Paris, notwithstanding his earnest assurances that he would employ them with the greatest prudence. This prohibition was very grievous to Armand, who, in his wisdom, was quite satisfied that he would be able to amuse himself in this way without any danger. As he had no fancy for practising with such people as he had just escaped from, it occurred to him that he might at least have a target in his father's garden, or shoot at the sparrows. He went to fetch from his father's study, where they were always kept, his gun and some pistols which had been given him by one of his uncles. It was a mere chance that he got at them, for since he had been intrusted with his liberty, M. de Saint Marsin, fearing he might make a dangerous use of them, had always been careful to keep them locked up; but his valet de chambre having to get something from the place where they were kept, had, notwithstanding the strict injunctions given to him, forgotten to relock the place, and take away the key. Armand therefore found the gun, the pistols, and some ammunition. On descending to the garden, he observed a cat running along the cornice of a neighbouring house; he took aim, missed, and walked on. He entered the garden, and there shot away right and left, and kept up a firing sufficient to alarm the whole neighbourhood.
After exhausting his ammunition, he was returning across the yard, loaded with his artillery, when a man, who was talking very vehemently with the porter, rushed towards him, saying, "Oh! that's him! that's him! I knew very well it came from here. It is you, then, sir, who have been breaking my windows and my furniture, and were very near killing my son. Oh, you shall pay well for this! I will be paid; if not I'll go and fetch the police, and take you before a magistrate!" He was in such a rage, that he poured forth a torrent of words, without allowing himself time to take breath, and all the while he shook Armand by the arm. "Yes, yes, I'll take him before a magistrate," he said to the gossips of the neighbourhood, who began to crowd round the gate.
"That's right," said one; "with his gun and pistol shots, one would have supposed that the enemy was at hand."
"The balls hit our walls," said another, "and I didn't know where to hide myself."
"Our poor Azor barked as if he was mad," said a third, "and I am still trembling all over."
"They shall pay me," continued the man. Armand, confounded, neither knew what had happened, nor what they wanted. At length he became aware that the shot which he had fired at the cat, had struck a window above the ledge along which the animal was walking. He had loaded his gun with ball, thinking that small shot would not be sufficient to kill it, and the ball had entered the window of one of the finest apartments in a furnished house, and had broken a looking-glass worth two thousand francs, shattered a pendule, and knocked off the hat of the landlord's son, who happened to be standing near the chimney-piece. At every incident the man related, he shook the arm of Armand, who was making fruitless efforts to escape from him. "You shall pay me," he continued, "as sure as my name is Bernard, and something more into the bargain, to teach you not to fire at other people's houses."
"He would be rather puzzled to pay, I should think," said one of the women.
"If he pays," added another, "it will not be out of his own purse."