CHAPTER VIII
HUMPHREY TRAIL
"Minuit!"
A little girl peered through the gloom of a dark alley, toward the rueSaint Antoine. Her thin, eager face looked anxious and her black eyesdarted here and there in search of him who until very recently had beenher best friend in all the world, Minuit, an alley cat!
"It's time to go to bed, ma mie. Come to Vivi," she called again andsuddenly from out of the greyness of the deserted alley, a gaunt, longshape appeared. It was Minuit and when he saw Vivi he ran up to her witha welcoming meow. She stooped and gathered him into her arms, hugginghim close to her.
"I've been alone all day, for the fat, funny man told me I'd best stayinside to-day. He will be coming soon with my supper." While she wasspeaking she was making her way back to an open door through which afaint light was gleaming. She was so used to being alone with Minuitthat she found it natural to talk to him as though he were a person.
A jangle of rough voices came down the alley from the shoemaker's shopon the corner of the rue Saint Antoine. Vivi was not at all frightenedof the voices or their owners, for she knew them. They had been friendsof her father and he would have been with them, talking far into thenight, had he not been killed the summer before by some pieces of lumberfrom the big pavilion falling on him. The pavilion had been erectedafter the storming of the Tuileries and he had been one of hundreds whohad offered to help put it up. He was a licorice water seller byprofession and all that he had left Vivi of worldly goods was his tintray and the cups dangling from it. She hoped to make some sous in thespring selling the cooling drink in the streets. Now that the coldweather had come, no one was thirsty enough to drink licorice water, andif it had not been for the fat, foreign stranger, who had taken the roomabove her and who never failed to bring her something to eat when hecame in at night, she would have had to go down the alley to beg a bitof bread from the shoemaker.
She went through the open door, climbed a short flight of ricketystairs, and opened a door at the right of the first landing. The roomshe entered was small and bare. There was a cot in one corner coveredwith a piece of sacking, a deal table close to a tiny, rude fireplace,and a chair. Some pieces of a broken box lay on the floor near thefireplace. Vivi went over to the cot and put Minuit down on it. Then shewent over to the cupboard and threw open its rickety door. There wasnothing at all to eat in the cupboard and Vivi made a face at it. Shehad never heard of Mother Hubbard, but she must have felt very much likeher as she saw the bare boards and heard Minuit's entreating meow.
"Never mind, Minuit, the fat man will bring us something to eat. Let usgo to sleep under the sacking until he comes." She picked Minuit up inher arms as she spoke and going to the cot, curled up on it under thesacking. Before she knew it, she and her purring friend were fastasleep.
Vivi was awakened by a loud scrambling of rats. She could hear themfighting and chasing each other through the wall as she sat up on thecot and rubbed her eyes. She jumped up and, drawing the cot close to thedusty window with its small jagged corner of broken glass, leanedforward so that she could see down the alley as far as the rue SaintAntoine at the end of it. She did not have to wait very long before shesaw a short, stout figure in a long cloak and wide hat coming toward herthrough the dusk.
It was the figure of Humphrey Trail, or "the fat, funny man," as Vivispoke of him to Minuit. He gave a little knock on the door and came in,bringing a rush of cold wind with him. He had a bundle in his arms andgoing over to the table he put it down, yawned, and looked at Vivi. Shecame slowly toward him, trying not to look too eagerly at the table. Herrough black hair flapped about her face as she pulled up a chair forhim. When he had sat down in it, she jumped up on the table beside him.
"I told Minuit you would bring something," she said, smiling at him. Hesmiled back at her, opening the bundle which was done up in brown paper.
"Food we shall have, tha and I and tha friend th' cat," said Humphrey,tearing off the paper and bringing forth its contents, a loaf of breadand a hunk of cheese. He felt in his pocket and drawing out his bigjackknife, cut a generous slice of the bread and a good supply ofcheese. He put the cheese astride the bread and handed it to his littlefriend with a bow.
Vivi nodded her gratitude. She was too busy taking big bites out of thebread and cheese to thank Humphrey in words. He was well pleased at herenjoyment of the simple meal and took his own share with a relish.Minuit was not forgotten either and ate his portion greedily. Humphreyspoke to him apologetically.
"Tha shall have tha dish o' milk one day when milk is easier got,beastie," he said. Minuit, who had not tasted milk since the days of hisinfancy, did not seem to be at all put out because of the present lackof the beverage. He jumped up on to the table beside Vivi and began tolick his paws. Humphrey Trail balanced himself uncomfortably on therickety chair as he ate his supper. He had had only a bowl of hot soupin a small cafe on the rue Royale at noon, and he was as hungry as histwo companions. As he ate he thought deeply and hardly heeded Vivi whenshe went over to the cot. His French was so limited that they could onlyhold brief conversations.
Minuit gave Humphrey's arm a soft bump with his head to remind him thathe was holding an uneaten bit of cheese in his hand. Humphrey gave himthe cheese, accompanied by a pat on the head. Then he relapsed intothoughtfulness again. He sat a long time at the deal table with hisplump, round face propped up on his two hands. He was thinking of LisleSaint Frere and of the great house where he lived and of all that hadpassed since he had snatched the boy from the spinner's cart, when hehad called out, "God save King Louis!" What awful things had happened inParis since that night of the tenth of August when the gallantMarseillais had stormed the Tuileries and awakened Paris to action! Ah,that had been a great day for the people! They were worth-while men,those Marseillais who had cheered their long march across France withtheir own songs, who had come in their simplicity and valor to avengetheir wrongs, to start a new era of liberty for the people, but who hadnot known, alas! that innocent people would so cruelly suffer, thatParis would go mad.
He had made his decision to remain in Paris on that August night, as hepaced up and down his room at the Croix d'Or. He would stay on, even ifhis staying might mean his death. His heart bled for the people ofFrance who had been starved and taxed and unjustly treated for centuriesand he had rejoiced when he heard the new song of liberty shouted in thestreets:
"Allons enfants de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrive!"
Humphrey would have answered, if any one had asked him, that he hadremained in France to "see the fun," but this was not so. There wasVivi, who depended on him for her daily bread, and there was some oneelse who might need his help also. He knew in his own mind that it wasgreatly because of this some one else that he had decided to stay. Thesome one else was Lisle.
Humphrey roused himself and got up, wrapped the bread and cheesecarefully in brown paper, and, going over to the cupboard, put them on ashelf. It made him happy to supply food for little Vivi. He had comeacross her in a strange way. He had witnessed the accident at thepavilion which had caused the death of her father. The poor man had beenselling his licorice water when the timbers from the pavilion fell onhim. While some one went to get a cart in which to take him to ahospital, Humphrey held the man in his arms and spoke to him in his poorFrench. Afterward he had visited him at the hospital, and just beforethe man died, promised to look after his little girl. Humphrey hadpicked up the man's tray and tin cups and given them to Vivi. He movedinto the attic room above hers, so as to be able to look after her. Hisgood action proved a safeguard to himself, for all foreigners at innswere being questioned and put under suspicion, and his days at the Croixd'Or would have been numbered had he remained.
Humphrey had sat down again at the table and he remained there for along time, deep in thought. Suddenly he was startled by sounds of wildlaughter and shouting from the rue Saint Antoine, as groups of cit
izensdanced by. They were shouting a new and terrible song:
"Dansons la Carmagnole, Vive le son du canon!"
Humphrey stood up, wrapped his snuff-colored cloak about him, andpicking up his wide hat, went out, closing the door softly behind him.He made his way through the alley to the noisy rue Saint Antoine andwent on swiftly through the dark, wintry streets. Everywhere werehurrying masses of people. Snatches of the "Ca Ira," the favorite songof the crowds, could be heard on all sides and wild, dark faces underscarlet caps peered out of the gloom. He turned in at a brightly lightedshop on the rue Royale. It was the bakery shop where he had bought forVivi the first cake that she had ever eaten. Now he wanted to buy heranother.
On the first days of his visit to the great city, Humphrey had come tothis bakery several times, in order to indulge in his love for sweets.It had once been very fashionable. Less than a year before, it had beenfilled with smart lackeys, who carried charming boxes of maroons orcandied grapes to their ladies' sedan chairs. Now no such finery wasseen. Instead the shop was patronized by honest farmer people from thecountry and rich merchants of the city who were heart and soul insympathy with the revolution, never dreaming that their turn to sufferwas coming soon.
The baker woman still sold her neat rows of cherry tarts. On the woodengallery above, talkative groups drank their eau citron and enjoyed thegood cakes. Humphrey eyed the pile of puffy brioche set out on a traynext to a gleaming pile of fruit confits, and he wondered what to buyfor Vivi. He felt guilty in buying anything but bread, but he could notresist the pleasure he would be giving Vivi, who had never had anysweets in all her life. Humphrey admired Vivi because she had been sobrave when her father died, and because she could smile when she washungry!
As he stood there undecided, the shop door opened with a clang, andturning his head, Humphrey saw a boy enter and stand near him at thecounter. After a moment, he realized that it was Lisle. He wore a shabbyblack suit which had evidently belonged to a groom, his locks were tiedback with a bit of black tape, and the cap which he held in his handswas a dismal, ragged one. He was evidently attempting a disguise, but itwas a poor one, and when Humphrey heard him ask the woman for the cakes,his heart sank. Lisle's attempt to change his voice was more futile thanhis attempt to change his garb.
"I want a cake for a little girl, citizen, something simple but verygood," Lisle said to the bakery woman.
"You want a cake, do you!" she waved her hand above a tray of creampastries, surrounded by green "cauliflowers" of almond flavor. Her blackeyes took in his appearance as she cried her wares. "Here are tartlets,choufleur. Choose what you will!"
Humphrey felt an odd mixture of emotion as he stood there with his backto Lisle. Lisle was a large part of his adventure, and his chief reasonfor staying on in Paris. He had never forgotten the sight of the boy ontop of the spinner's cart, waving his cap and shouting for the king. Hehad been sent to be his friend. The little incident that occurred whenhe had let Lisle go his way, after he had rescued him, had made him sureof it. He had watched Lisle and seen him stop and start back, then pauseuncertainly and go on again. Something in the action touched Humphrey'sbig heart. The boy had needed his counsel, but his pride andindependence had forbidden his asking it. Since then Humphrey had goneeach night and stood for an hour in the shadow of the wall at the sideof the great house of the Saint Freres.
"What cakes will you choose? My time is not forever at your disposal,"the bakery woman said impatiently.
Lisle regarded the cakes soberly.
"I want something simple for a little girl," he repeated.
"I have just the thing, a plain sponge with white icing. You shall see."
The woman moved away to reach the cakes at the back of a shelf justbehind her. Lisle turned round and, seeing Humphrey Trail, at once gavehim a smile of greeting. Humphrey made no sign of recognition. The womanreturned with the cakes saying:
"They are three sous apiece. How many?"
Lisle answered, "I wish to have three." He put his hand in the pocket ofhis rough over-jacket and, drawing forth some coins, counted out thedesired amount and handed it to the woman. When she had given him thesmall package he went out. Without waiting to buy his cake, HumphreyTrail followed him.
Humphrey was angry as he walked out of the bakery shop. They were alittle in awe of him at home in the farmlands when his easy-going temperwas aroused. He came up to Lisle and spoke to him without ceremony.
"Th' art mad, lad, I tell thee, to buy cakes at a shop where spies eatand there are eyes in every corner. Th' art a poor fool at play actin'with tha soft speech and ways. Get tha home and, for tha mother's sake,stay within tha house!"
They had walked slowly along the crowded rue Royale. Lisle turned andlooked at his companion and suddenly he smiled.
"I like you, Humphrey Trail," he said.
Humphrey felt his temper cooling, and as they turned into a quieterstreet he slackened his pace. Nothing could have happened more timelythan Humphrey's losing his temper. Had there been any vestige ofsuspicion as to Humphrey's sincerity in Lisle's mind, it vanishedforever with his honest scolding.
"I like tha well myself, lad, but see that tha ken sense with tha manlyways," Humphrey said in answer.
"It is the first time I have been there, Humphrey Trail. Our friend,Rosanne de Soigne, is staying with my mother and me. I was buying cakesfor her."
"Th' little girl can do well without sweets these sad days if it willsave her life," he answered. As he spoke a deep sense of responsibilityfell on him and then he felt a warm glow of thankfulness that the boytrusted him and was confiding in him.
They had reached the Saint Frere house and Lisle turned and held out hishand.
"I have been glad of your company, Humphrey Trail. I know you arehonest, and just now there is no one else in all Paris whom I cantrust."
"Tha can trust me, lad, that tha can. Can tha remember the name of mylodging? Listen well. It is in the Impasse Forne, just off the rue SaintAntoine, the fourth turn to the right from the corner where the womenare making waste for the guns. Tha cannot fail to find it and anymessage sent there will reach me. I shall not be far and I shall beready to serve tha well."
Humphrey shook Lisle's hand warmly there in the shadow of the greathouse.
"In all Paris, you are my only friend, Humphrey Trail," Lisle answered.