La Constantin | Page 4

her accomplice,
Claude Perregaud, was of sufficient importance to find a place on any
list of great criminals, although it is certain that they were guilty of the
crimes with which they were charged. It may seem strange that what
follows is more a history of the retribution which overtook the
criminals than a circumstantial description of the deeds for which they
were punished; but the crimes were so revolting, and so unsuitable for
discussion, that it was impossible for us to enter into any details on the
subject, so that what we offer in these pages is, we confess quite openly,
not a full, true, and particular account of a certain series of events
leading up to a certain result; it is not even a picture wherein that result
is depicted with artistic completeness, it is only an imperfect narrative
imperfectly rounded off. We feel sure, however, that the
healthy-minded reader will be grateful for our reticence and total
disregard of proportion. In spite of the disadvantage which such a
theme imposes on any writer with a deep sense of responsibility, we
have resolved to let in some light on these obscure figures; for we can
imagine no more effective way of throwing into high relief the low
morals and deep corruption into which all classes of society had sunk at
the termination of the factious dissensions of the Fronde, which formed
such a fitting prelude to the licence of the reign of the grand roi.
After this explanation, we shall, without further preamble, introduce the
reader to a little tavern in Paris, situated in the rue
Saint-Andre-des-Arts, on an evening in November 1658.
It was about seven o'clock. Three gentlemen were seated at one of the
tables in a low, smoky room. They had already emptied several bottles,
and one of them seemed to have just suggested some madcap scheme to

the others, the thought of which sent them off into shouts of laughter.
"Pardu!" said one of them, who was the first to recover his breath, "I
must say it would be an excellent trick."
"Splendid!" said another; "and if you like, Commander de Jars, we can
try it this very evening."
"All right, my worthy king's treasurer, provided my pretty nephew here
won't be too much shocked," and as he spoke de Jars gave to the
youngest of the three a caressing touch on the cheek with the back of
his hand.
"That reminds me, de Jars!" said the treasurer, "that word you have just
said piques my curiosity. For some months now this little fellow here,
Chevalier de Moranges, follows you about everywhere like your
shadow. You never told us you had a nephew. Where the devil did you
get him?"
The commander touched the chevalier's knee under the table, and he, as
if to avoid speaking, slowly filled and emptied his glass.
"Look here," said the treasurer, "do you want to hear a few plain words,
such as I shall rap out when God takes me to task about the
peccadilloes of my past life? I don't believe a word about the
relationship. A nephew must be the son of either a brother or a sister.
Now, your only sister is an abbess, and your late brother's marriage was
childless. There is only one way of proving the relationship, and that is
to confess that when your brother was young and wild he and Love met,
or else Madame l'Abbesse----."
"Take care, Treasurer Jeannin! no slander against my sister!"
" Well, then, explain; you can't fool me! May I be hanged if I leave this
place before I have dragged the secret out of you! Either we are friends
or we are not. What you tell no one else you ought to tell me. What!
would you make use of my purse and my sword on occasion and yet
have secrets from me? It's too bad: speak, or our friendship is at an end!

I give you fair warning that I shall find out everything and publish it
abroad to court and city: when I strike a trail there's no turning me aside.
It will be best for you to whisper your secret voluntarily into my ear,
where it will be as safe as in the grave."
"How full of curiosity you are, my good friend!" said de Jars, leaning
one elbow on the table, and twirling the points of his moustache with
his hand; "but if I were to wrap my secret round the point of a dagger
would you not be too much afraid of pricking your fingers to pull it
off?"
"Not I," said the king's treasurer, beginning to twirl his moustache also:
"the doctors have always told me that I am of too full a complexion and
that it would do me