Gil Blas - Alain-René Lesage (online e book reader .txt) 📗

I was obliged to play the prude, or my virtue might have come into disgrace. I therefore stopped proceedings till the time of my probation should expire, to which I looked forward with impatience, just as if I was waiting for a place under government.

Heaven be praised, in about six months I gained my end. The commandant Rolando addressing his regiment, said: “Comrades, we must stand upon honor with Gil Blas. I have no bad opinion of our young candidate; we shall make something of him. If you will take my advice, let him go and reap his first harvest with us tomorrow on the king’s highway. We will lead him on in the path of honor.” The robbers applauded the sentiments of the captain with a thunder of acclamation; and to show me how much I was considered as one of the gang, from that moment they dispensed with my attendance at the sideboard. Dame Leonarda was reinstated in the office from which she had been discharged to make room for me. They made me change my dress, which consisted in a plain short cossack a good deal the worse for wear, and tricked me out in the spoils of a gentleman lately robbed. After this inauguration, I made my arrangements for my first campaign.

VIII

Gil Blas goes out with the gang, and performs an exploit on the highway.

It was past midnight in the month of September, when I issued from the subterraneous abode as one of the fraternity. I was armed, like them, with a carabine, two pistols, a sword and a bayonet, and was mounted on a very good horse, the property of the gentleman in whose costume I appeared. I had lived so long like a mole under ground, that the daybreak could not fail of dazzling me: but my eyes got reconciled to it by degrees.

We passed close by Pontferrada, and were determined to lie in ambush behind a small wood skirting the road to León. There we were waiting for whatever fortune might please to throw in our way, when we espied a Dominican friar, mounted, contrary to the rubric of those pious fathers, on a shabby mule.

“God be praised,” exclaimed the captain with a sneer, “this is a noble beginning for Gil Blas. Let him go and trounce that monk: we will bear witness to his qualifications.” The connoisseurs were all of opinion that this commission suited my talents to a hair, and exhorted me to do my best.

“Gentlemen,” quoth I, “you shall have no reason to complain. I will strip this holy father to his birthday suit, and give you complete right and title to his mule.”

“No, no,” said Rolando, “the beast would not be worth its fodder: only bring us our reverend pastor’s purse; that is all we require.” Hereupon I issued from the wood and pushed up to the man of God, doing penance all the time in my own breast for the sin I was committing. I could have liked to have turned my back upon my fellows at that moment; but most of them had the advantage of better horses than mine: had they seen me making off, they would have been at my heels, and would soon have caught me, or perhaps would have fired a volley, for which I was not sufficiently case-hardened. I could not therefore venture on so perilous an alternative; so that claiming acquaintance with the reverend father, I asked to look at his purse, and just put out the end of a pistol. He stopped short to gaze upon me; and, without seeming much frightened, said, “My child, you are very young; this is an early apprenticeship to a bad trade.”

“Father,” replied I, “bad as it is, I wish I had begun it sooner.”

“What! my son,” rejoined the good friar, who did not understand the real meaning of what I said, “how say you? What blindness! give me leave to place before your eyes the unhappy condition.”

“Come, come, father!” interrupted I with impatience, “a truce to your morality, if you please. My business on the high road is not to hear sermons. Money makes my mare to go.”

“Money!” said he, with a look of surprise; “you have a poor opinion of Spanish charity, if you think that people of my stamp have any occasion for such trash upon their travels. Let me undeceive you. We are made welcome wherever we go, and pay for our board and lodgings by our prayers. In short, we carry no cash with us on the road; but draw drafts upon Providence.”

“That is all very well,” replied I; “yet for fear your drafts should be dishonored, you take care to keep about you a little supply for present need. But come, father, let us make an end: my comrades in the wood are in a hurry; so your money or your life.” At these words, which I pronounced with a determined air, the friar began to think the business grew serious.

“Since needs must,” said he, “there is wherewithal to satisfy your craving. A word and a blow is the only rhetoric with you gentlemen.” As he said this, he drew a large leathern purse from under his gown, and threw it on the ground. I then told him he might make the best of his way: and he did not wait for a second bidding, but stuck his heels into the mule, which, giving the lie to my opinion, for I thought it on a par with my uncle’s, set off at a good round pace. While he was riding for his life, I dismounted. The purse was none of the lightest. I mounted again, and got back to the wood, where those nice observers were waiting with impatience to congratulate me on my success. I could hardly get my foot out of the stirrup, so eager were they to shake hands with me.

“Courage, Gil Blas,” said Rolando; “you have done wonders. I