“How does it happen that I meet you with Lampin in this forest?” he asked Dufresne at last; “what has led you to embrace such a dangerous life?”
“What’s that? what other sort of life do you expect a man to embrace when he is outlawed from society, as we are? You’re not going to play the innocent, are you, you who have just killed a poor wood-cutter, whose death was of no benefit to you?”
“I did nothing but defend myself; that man had fired at me and was threatening me again; I had to parry his blows.”
“The deuce, comrade, you have a pretty way of parrying!—But no matter, let us return to ourselves. You must know that I have been sentenced to death; luckily I didn’t wait for my sentence before escaping from prison, thanks to these two faithful friends whom I had helped long ago. We could not appear in the daylight; so we selected the woods and the highways to carry on our trade; a man must do something. A little while ago, we stopped a traveller who was riding through these woods, and I recognized Lampin, who asked nothing better than to join us. You must join us too, my dear Murville, for there is nothing else for you to do; you ought to be enchanted to have met us.”
“Yes, yes,” said Lampin, “and I am sure that you no longer bear me a grudge for leaving you with the wagoner at midnight. What can you expect, my boy? I saw that the horse wasn’t worth much; he would never have been able to gallop with two men on his back, and I gave myself the preference; that was natural enough.”
“What a miserable life!” said Edouard, glancing about; “to live in the woods, in the darkness, to dread being arrested every minute, to risk one’s life for a few gold pieces!”
“Deuce take it, my little man,” said Lampin; “I agree that it was livelier when we danced with Véronique-la-Blonde, beating time on her flanks, and drinking madeira or champagne; but, you see, we all have our ups and our downs.”
“Muster up your courage, my dear Murville,” said Dufresne; “we may be rich yet, and enjoy life under another sky. Meanwhile, I don’t propose any longer to confine myself to living in the woods, and waiting for a poor traveller now and then; besides, four or five men are not enough to form a formidable band, equal to stopping well-loaded vehicles. But I have more extensive projects, and as I possess the talent of making myself unrecognizable, when necessary, I hope that when my comrades are thoroughly saturated with my lessons, we shall be able to try some bold stroke,—either breaking into some wealthy man’s house, or assuming title and rank, according to circumstances.”
“Ah! he’s a sly fox! he knows a lot! I would like right well to know the man who educated him!”
“I can satisfy you, my friends, by telling you the story of my youth; it will not take long and it will amuse you. Moreover, Murville will derive some profit from it; there are some things in it which concern him, and I have no need now of standing on ceremony with him.”