character, will steal--not to eat, but to satisfy some fanciful caprice, or
to try the chance of stock-jobbing? Will steal, not a hundred francs, but a
hundred thousand francs--a million? Will steal, not at night, at the peril
of his life, but tranquilly, quite at his ease, in the sight of all? Will
steal, not from an unknown who has placed his money under the safeguard of
a lock, but from a client, who has placed from necessity his money under
the safeguard of the public officer, whom the law points out--imposes on
his confidence? What terrible punishment will be deserve, then, who,
instead of stealing a small sum almost from necessity, will steal wholesale
a considerable amount? Would it not be a crying injustice not to apply to
him a similar punishment to that bestowed on the poor villain pushed to
extremities by misery, to theft by want? Get along! says the law. How!
apply to a man well brought up the same punishment as to a vagabond? For
shame! To compare an offense of good society with a vulgar burglary? Fie!

Thus, for the public defaulting officer: two months imprisonment. For the
liberated prisoner: twenty years hard labor, and the pillory. What can be
added to these facts? They speak for themselves.

What sad and serious reflections they give birth to. Faithful to his
promise, the old warder had called for Germain. When Boulard re-entered
the prison, the door opened, Germain entered, and Rigolette was no longer
separated from her poor lover but by a slight wire railing.




CHAPTER VI.

FRANCOIS GERMAIN.