The Mysteries of Paris, Vol. 1 (Classic Reprint)
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Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt from The Mysteries of Paris, Vol. 1 This word, in the slang of theft and murder, signifies a drinking-shop of the lowest class. A returned convict, who, in this foul phraseology, is called an ogre, or a woman in the same degraded state, who is termed an ogress, generally keep such "cribs," frequented by the refuse of the Parisian population; - freed felons, thieves, and assassins, are there familiar guests. If a crime is committed, it is here, in this filthy sewer, that the police throws its cast-net, and rarely fails to catch the criminals it seeks to take. On the night in question, the wind howled fiercely in the dark and dirty gulleys of the Cité: the blinking and uncertain light of the lamps which swung to and fro in the sudden gusts were dimly reflected in pools of black slush, which flowed abundantly in the midst of the filthy pavement. The murky-coloured houses, which were lighted within by a few panes of glasses in the worm-eaten casements, overhung each other so closely, that the eaves of each almost touched its opposite neighbour, so narrow were the streets. Dark and noisome alleys led to staircases still more black and foul, and so perpendicular, that they could hardly be ascended by the help of a cord fixed to the dank and humid walls by holdfasts of iron. Stalls of charcoal-sellers, fruit-sellers, or venders of refuse meat, occupied the ground-floor of some of these wretched abodes. Notwithstanding the small value of their commodities, the front of nearly all these shops were protected by strong bars of iron, - a proof that the shopkeepers knew and dreaded the gentry who infested the vicinity. The man of whom we have spoken, having entered Rue aux Fêves, which is in the centre of the Cité, slackened his pace: he felt he was on his own soil. The night was dark, and strong gusts of wind, mingled with rain, dashed against the walls. Ten o´clock struck by the distant dial of the Palais de Justice. Women were huddled together under the vaulted arches, deep and dark, like caverns; some hummed popular airs in a low key; others conversed together in whispers; whilst some, dumb and motionless, looked on mechanically at the wet, which fell and flowed in torrents. The man in the carter´s frock, stopping suddenly before one of these creatures, silent and sad as she gazed, seized her by the arm, and said, "Ha! good evening, La Goualeuse." The girl receded, saying, in a faint and fearful tone, "Good evening, Chourineur. Don´t hurt me." This man, a liberated convict, had been so named at the hulks. "Now I have you," said the fellow; "you must pay me the glass of ´tape´ (eau d´aff), or I´ll make you dance without music," he added, with a hoarse and brutal laugh. "Oh, Heaven! I have no money," replied Goualeuse, trembling from head to foot, for this man was the dread of the district. "If you´re stumped, the ogress of the tapis-franc will give you tick for your pretty face." "She won´t; I already owe her for the clothes I´m wearing." About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to p
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