to have produced a thousand actions at law, and quite a sufficient possession to have enabled him to make his fortune by ruining his neighbour; but Hippolyte really had nothing in the world, and unable to turn pleader, he became a swindler, then a forger, then we shall learn what, and must not anticipate.
Every time I visited the town, Hippolyte paid for dinner; and one day, between dessert and cheese, he said to me; "Do you know I am astonished at you;—to live in the country like an anchorite; to be content with a daily pittance; to have just twenty-two sous per diem. I cannot conceive how a person can endure such a lot; as for me, I would father die at once. But you have your pickings somewhere, slily; you are not the lad to live without some such additions." I told him that my pay sufficed for me; and, besides, I was fed, clothed, and in want of nothing. "All very fine," he replied; "but yet we have some priggers (grinchisseurs) here: you have no doubt heard of the 'minions of the moon' (l’armée de la Lune)—You must be one; and, if you like, I will quarter you;—take the environs of Saint Leonard."
I was told that the army "de la Lune" was a band of malefactors, the leaders of whom were, up to this period, concealed from the scrutiny of the police. These brigands, who had organized a system of murder and robbery for a circuit of more than ten leagues, all belonged to various regiments. At night they ranged about the camps, or concealed themselves on the roads, making pretended rounds, and patroles stopping any person who presented the least hope of booty. That they might not be impeded, they provided themselves with uniforms of every denomination. At a time of need they were captains, colonels, generals, and used all the proper words of regimental order and discipline,—pass-words, countersigns, &c.; with which some trusty friends took care to inform them, from time to time, as they were altered.
