When the cart reached the Place de Grève, he made an effort, rose and looked at the scaffold. When he saw that only one wheel was erected, he turned pale, large drops fell from his brow, and he repeated several times 'Les frollants, les frollants !' (the traitors). He obviously expected to be executed in good company, and his courage was vanishing. As a means of prolonging his life, he said he wished to confess his crimes, and he was taken to the Hôtel-de-Ville. Meanwhile the scaffold remained standing, and the crowd that had congregated to see the execution did not disperse. On the following morning Cartouche was again handed over to Charles Sanson but he was an altered man; he no longer made a show of his cynicism, and although his firmness was not impaired, it had lost all appearance of bravado. His instincts, however, appeared again; when he was placed on the 'Croix de St. André,' and the dull thud of the iron bar descending on his limbs was heard, Cartouche exclaimed in a stentorian voice, as if counting the blows, One!'

But he relapsed into silence. Many as were the crimes of Cartouche, he had the benefit of retentum, a clause which stipulated that the culprit should be strangled after a certain number of blows; but the clerk of the court was so confused that he forgot to mention the fact to the executioner. Cartouche was so strong that it required eleven blows to break him, and I can affirm that, contrary to what was stated in the procès verbal of the execution, he lived more than twenty minutes after being placed on the wheel.

CHAPTER IX.

THE ACCOMPLICES OF CARTOUCHE.

IF Cartouche had been able to guess the future, he might have seen that the fate of his accomplices was no better than his. On the fourth day after the execution of the celebrated bandit, Balagny and a few others took their place on the ignominious and barbarous wheel which was the certain end of anti-social lives. They gave information as to their accomplices, and made, at the foot of the scaffold, confessions which torture had failed to elicit from them.

They implicated so many persons, that another series of trials began, which lasted as long as the declarations of convicted prisoners compromised other persons, and threw new light on the immense ramifications of an association of miscreants which had for many years defied the police. More than sixty persons were under lock and key at the time of the execution of Cartouche and Balagny. This number increased every day in consequence of the confession of those who hoped to save their lives by denouncing their accomplices, and in June of the following year it rose to one hundred and fifty. The execution of Louis Marcant took place in March, that of Rozy in June; and all this blood, instead of

washing the affair away, seemed rather to make it more serious. Each day brought to light some new discovery; and this shows how profoundly mistaken were those who denied that Cartouche, the centre and wire-puller of this horrible association, possessed the organising spirit without which he could not have extended this immense net over the Parisian society.

Rozy revealed more than any of those who suffered before him. On the night which followed his last interrogatory before execution eighty persons were arrested and taken to the Conciergerie. M. Arnauld de Boueix, the instructing judge, questioned them during no less than thirty-two consecutive hours. This magistrate showed extreme zeal and firmness. Some even accused him of excessive rigour and even cruelty. This was easy to account for. M. Arnauld de Boueix was the son of a criminal lieutenant of Angouleme, who had come to Paris to watch a lawsuit, and who, on his return home, had been murdered on the high-road. Hence M. Arnauld de Boueix's hatred for his father's murderers.

The most curious feature of Rozy's denunciations was that they seriously implicated two police officers named Leroux and Bourlon. Rozy maintained their complicity with the association, and also especially charged them with taking part in the murder of a poor poet named Vergier, who had been killed a year before in the Rue du Bout-du-Monde.

The enemies of the Regent-and they were manysought to trace to him the responsibility of this murder; they said that Vergier was killed by mistake, that the

murderers, paid by the prince, thought they struck down Lagrange-Chancel, author of the 'Philippics,' a collection of satires which had caused him the greatest irritation. This calumny was not credited, and it no doubt induced the Regent to show indulgence to the author of the verses, who, instead of rotting in a cell of the Bastille, as happened to Latude at Mdme. de Pompadour's instigation, was sent to the St. Marguerite isles, whence the poet escaped to Holland.

The arrest of Leroux and Bourlon caused some sensation. This, however, was not the first time that the police were found in connivance with thieves; but these two men were so warmly supported that their case attracted universal attention. M. d'Argenson, lieutenant of police, interposed on behalf of his employés; M. de la Vrillière, Secretary of State, in whose service Bourlon had once been, joined him in his efforts to extricate the two police officers. On the evening which followed their arrest, M. de Maurepas came with a lettre-de-cachet, to remove them from the Conciergerie to the Bastille. The gaoler, who thought he was under the order of the Parliament, refused to give them up. M. de Maurepas returned with another lettre-de-cachet which empowered him to take the gaoler with him if he persisted in his disobedience. The first president was then referred to; the latter referred to M. Amelot, president of La Tournelle; and these magistrates decided on handing over Bourlon and Leroux to M. de Maurepas, who took them to the Bastille. But on the next day the Parliament, ever jealous of its privileges, expressed much irritation and blamed the weak

ness and timidity of its officials. After the sitting, they sent the procureur-général to the Palais Royal: the Regent declined to see them. At twelve o'clock President Amelot and two councillors came again. This time they were received. They humbly prayed his royal highness to appoint commissioners in order to finish the prosecution of Cartouche's gang, for, as far as they were concerned, they would immediately set free all the criminals who were still in prison. The prince was afraid of a great scandal, so he yielded, and Bourlon and Leroux were taken back to the Conciergerie. They probably escaped scot-free, for I do not find their names on Charles Sanson's dead-lists.

Still the scaffold and the gibbet were in constant use in the course of the year 1722, and it seemed as if the ramifications of the Cartouche association were endless. After the men came the turn of the women. As one may think, Cartouche was no puritan. He always had behind him a perfect seraglio, the members of which not only directed him but acted as powerful and useful auxiliaries. They had their part in his crimes, and it was deemed necessary that they should also have a share of the retribution.

Five of the principal mistresses of the notorious bandit were hanged in July 1722. One of them made a full confession, and, when tortured, implicated sixty persons. Most of the receivers of stolen goods were captured. Among them were large jewellers, well known in Paris, who hitherto had been taken for honest and influential tradesmen. The honour of the invention of Moutonnage,