[8] Anglice. Only the first step is troublesome.—Tr.
From Fraser's Magazine.
POULAILLER, THE ROBBER.
Cartouche had been arrested, tried, condemned, and executed, some seven or eight years, and no longer occupied the attention of the good people of Paris, to whom his almost melodramatic life and death had afforded a most interesting and enduring topic. They were languishing, like the Athenians of old, for something new, when there arose a rumor that another robber, more dexterous, more audacious, more extraordinary, ay, and more cruel than Cartouche, was roaming about the streets of their city. What was his name? whence did he come? were questions in the mouth of every one, as each of his numerous daring acts was made public,—questions which no one could answer.
In vain was every arm of the police put in requisition—crime after crime was committed with impunity, and terror reigned supreme.
At last the criminal himself disdained concealment, and all Paris—nay, a considerable portion of Europe—trembled at the name of Poulailler.
He appeared about the year 1730, and astonished the world by deeds, some of them so shocking, and at the same time so wonderful, that they gave some color to the belief of many that he was aided by supernatural agency.
This belief was supported by a history of the circumstances attending his birth.
There lived in a village on the coast of Brittany a man, poor but of good repute, and well beloved by his neighbors,—an intrepid mariner, but poor as Job himself when his friends came to comfort him. A robust and well-knit frame, combined with a fine frank countenance, well bronzed by the sea-breezes, was looked on favorably by all, and by none more than by the young lasses whose furtive glances rested with pleasure on the manly form and gallant bearing of Jacques Poulailler.