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“OPEN, IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!”

PHILIPPE had been leading a monotonous sort of life since he had been in hiding at Marseille, and his only pleasure consisted in going to kiss his son every evening at Saint Barnabé.

Marius, out of prudence, had begged him to wait, to make these visits, until he was free, for he felt that it would have been better for father and son to be separated until the time came when they could see each other without danger to either. But he had had to give way to his brother’s urgent entreaties; and he tranquillized his mind by thinking M. de Cazalis must be unaware of the presence of Philippe and his son at Marseille.

The condemned man who visited no one, not even Marius, went every evening to the gardener’s cottage and there enjoyed the only happy hours of his existence. Generally as soon as he made his appearance, the gardener and his wife took advantage of his arrival, to set out with the fruit and vegetables they grew, for Marseille. As he was alone in the house he bolted the door and played with Joseph like a child. This relieved his mind, he forgot the past and present, to dream of a happy future. When he was there in that old house so quiet and pleasant, he forgot he was a condemned man, a wretched creature whom a gendarme could lead back handcuffed to the city; he fancied himself a peasant, a labourer who had cultivated the land all day and was resting at night. These serene hours gave him fresh strength and appeased the disagreeable fevers that sometimes racked his frame. No one would have recognised in this bowed-down and aged-looking man, watching over a child like a devoted wet-nurse, the gay and wild young dandy with whose amorous adventures all Marseille had been busy a few years before. Ah! misfortune is a hard school!

On the evening when M. de Cazalis and Mathéus went to Saint Barnabé accompanied by two gendarmes, Philippe had reached the cottage, as usual, at about six o’clock. The gardener and his wife were waiting to take a cartload of grapes to Marseille. As soon as he was alone he withdrew into the room on the ground floor and shut himself up. Little Joseph was not in a mood for play: he had been running all day among the vines, and had fallen asleep on a sort of old sofa with smiling lips, all stained with the purple juice of the grape. Philippe moved about on tip-toe, so as not to disturb his slumber, and ended by seating himself opposite to him and watching him sleep in the undefined glimmer of the falling twilight.

He remained in that position for nearly an hour, silent and motionless, listening to the child’s light breathing and finding immense delight in gazing on him. Two great tears which he did not feel, trickled down his cheeks.

As he sat there lost in tender ecstasy, he heard a sudden knock at the door, and it seemed to him as if hands had fallen on his shoulders to arrest him. The violent resounding blows drew him from his dream. He returned from his wanderings to his mother earth, and passed from his oblivious serenity, to the terror of every moment of his life. There, behind the door, were the gendarmes.

Half erect he listened, firmly determined not to open. He was in the habit of closing the door every evening to make believe the house was empty. Little Joseph continued to sleep, rosy and smiling. The blows redoubled, but the condemned man now observed that they were dealt by a weak and impatient hand. At the same moment he heard the suffocating voice of a woman, stammering out in terror:

“Open, open quickly, for the love of God!”

He seemed to recognise the voice and drew back the bolts.

Fine dashed inside at a bound, out of breath and fainting, and quickly closed the door after her. Then for a minute she stood gasping, with her hands pressed against her heart and unable to speak.

Philippe gazed on her with astonishment. She had never before been to the cottage at that hour, and something very serious must have happened for her to have risked such a visit, which was compromising for her.

“What is the matter?” he inquired.

“They are there,” answered Fine, heaving a great sigh, “I saw them on the road and began running across country to get here before them.”

“Who do you mean?”

She stared at him as if surprised at his inquiry.

“Ah! yes,” she answered, “you don’t know. I came to tell you they were going to arrest you this evening.”

“Arrest me this evening!” exclaimed the young man, drawing himself up in a passion.

“This afternoon,” continued the former flower-girl, “Marius ascertained, by providential chance, that M. de Cazalis had applied for two gendarmes to make an arrest near Saint-Barnabé.”

“Always, always that man!”

“Then, Marius who came home mad with grief, sent me off here to take the child and beg you to fly.”

Philippe made a step towards the door.

“Eh! no,” exclaimed the young woman, in despair, “it is too late now. I have not come in time. I tell you they are there.”

Sobbing, she seated herself on a chair near little Joseph, and watched him sleeping, feeling quite broken down. Philippe looked round the room in search of an issue.

“And no means of safety!” he murmured. “Ah! I prefer to risk all. Give me the child. Night is falling and I shall perhaps have time to escape.”

He stooped down to take Joseph, when Fine seized hold of his hands, making an energetic sign to him to listen. Then, in the terrible silence, they heard the sound of footsteps before the house, and almost at the same moment the stocks of muskets came in contact with the door, whilst a stern voice shouted:

“Open, in the name of the law!”

Philippe turned ghastly pale and slid down on the sofa beside his son.

“All is lost,” he murmured.

“Don’t open,” said Fine, in an undertone. “Marius impressed upon me, in case you were unable to fly, that you were to put as many impediments as possible to your arrest, so as to gain time.”

“Why did not he come himself?”

“I don’t know. He did not tell me what his plans were. He ran off on his side while I took a fly to get here.”

“He didn’t tell you if he would come and give us assistance?”

“No. I repeat he is mad with grief. I only heard him murmur: ‘I hope to heaven I may succeed.’”

At that moment, the stocks of the muskets were heard knocking more violently at the door and the terrifying cry resounded:

“Open, in the name of. the law!”

Fine placed her finger on her lips to tell Philippe to preserve absolute silence. Each blow, each word made them start and increased their alarm. Little Joseph continued sleeping between them, but in an uneasy and agitated slumber.

The gendarmes had already been knocking and shouting for five minutes, and in the end one of them said to M. de Cazalis that the cottage appeared empty, and they had no power to burst open the door.

“If we were sure your man was inside,” he added, “we would soon send the lock flying; but we cannot run the risk of such a thing, with the chance of not finding him there.”

“The man is certainly there,” exclaimed Mathéus, “I saw him enter.”

“I will answer for everything,” added M. de Cazalis, “I’d be responsible for what you do.”

The two gendarmes shook their heads, knowing perfectly well that they alone would be punished if they broke into a house. They only had orders to arrest the person pointed out to them and were not inclined to go beyond their instructions.

M. de Cazalis was in despair at their irresolution and at seeing them unwilling to proceed any further, when a voice was heard inside the dwelling.

“Do you hear?” he said. “You can see the house is not empty and that our man is within!”

It was little Joseph who had just opened his eyes. Frightened at finding himself in the dark and at the sound of loud voices, he had burst out crying. Fine, in alarm, had endeavoured in vain to quiet him with kisses, but unsuccessfully. The son betrayed the father.

The gendarmes knocked again and shouted out:

“If you don’t open, we’ll burst in the door!”

At the violent blows from the stocks of the muskets against the wood, Philippe understood that the door would not resist for very long. He got up and lit the lamp, no longer afraid of the light betraying him. Joseph terrified by the battering outside, which shook the whole house, screamed louder than ever, and Fine, who had risen and was nursing him in her arms, walked backwards and forwards in despair, powerless to calm him.

“Oh! let him cry,” Philippe said to her. “They know I am here now.”

And he went and kissed his child, murmuring in a broken voice:

“Poor little darling!”

As he looked at him his eyes were filled with great tears. When he had kissed him a last time, he quickly advanced towards the door.

Fine stopped him.

“What! Are you going to open to them?” she inquired in agony.

“Eh! yes,” he answered. “Don’t you hear? The wood’s giving way and the lock’s ready to fly off. Ayasse may return at any moment, and besides, now that flight is impossible, I won’t have the door damaged any further.”

“For pity’s sake, wait a little longer. Let us gain time.”

“Gain time. Why? Isn’t it all up?”

“No, I’ve faith in Marius. He impressed on me to put as many obstacles as possible in the way of your arrest, and I implore you to conform to his entreaty. It is a question of your own safety.”

Philippe shook his head.

“They will make me pay dearly for every minute’s resistance,” he said. “It’s better not to struggle uselessly.”

Fine saw that despair had transformed him into a coward, and she knew not what to say to instil energy into him. All at once she had an idea:

“But,” she exclaimed, “what will become of Joseph? As soon as you are arrested, these men will take him.”

The young man, who already had a hand almost on a bolt, turned round pale and trembling and returned to Fine’s side.

“Didn’t you tell me Cazalis was there with the gendarmes?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she answered.

He turned very pale again, and stammered out in a choking voice.

“Oh! I understand it all now. Wretched egotist that I am, I was only thinking of my own safety and my child was in greater danger than myself! You are right, they only come to arrest me here, in order to steal Joseph. What is there to be done? Good heavens!”

At that moment such a violent blow was given to the door, that the wood cracked, as if it were about to split in two, and Philippe gazed round about him bewildered.

“No issue!” he continued, “and in a few moments the door will be broken in. What can be done, good heavens! to escape them!”

The blows became more and more redoutable. One felt that the gendarmes were becoming furious at the long resistance. Philippe remained for a few seconds with his head between his hands trying to think, to discover a means of escape. Then, in a low and rapid voice he said:

“I am of your opinion. We must try and gain time. Marius has always been my guardian angel.”

“Let us barricade the door with the furniture,” exclaimed the young woman.

“No, that’s not advisable. Open resistance will only hasten on events.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Open the door and give myself up. But before doing so, you must run to the loft with Joseph, and hide yourself as well as possible; in the meanwhile I will arrange to make the details of my arrest last as long as I can, so as to give my brother time to help us.”

“And if they take you away at once, and if I am left at the mercy of these men?”

“Then everything will, indeed, be against us. However, there is no time to argue, and there is no choice. Do you hear? The door is giving way. For love of heaven hurry upstairs and hide yourself well!”

He pushed Fine towards the staircase; then, when she had disappeared in the dark, he went and drew back the bolts.